Lost Mirror
by Sunchaser55
Summary: Left with nothing but a magical mirror to protect him, Fey was abandoned because of his obscure spirit abilities and dark touch. With the love-hate felt for his father, Fey is determined to uncover the mirror's secrets in hopes of discovering where he has disappeared to. But his investigation is not what it seems when a certain white haired strigoi is the one pulling the strings.
1. The Moonlit Prince

**Firstly, I just want to let everybody know that this is a cross over AU story between Inazuma Eleven GO and Vampire Academy. Vampire Academy characters, with the exception of two or so appearances from Adrian, will not be in it. They'll be mentioned, but overall, this is a story that takes the Inazuma characters and places them in the Vampire Academy verse. They're the main focus: specifically Fey, Tenma, Zanark and eventually Saryuu. So you don't necessarily have needed to read any of the books in order to read this fic. It will focus on Inazuma characters and non-canon events that I've written to take place after the book series. **

**I promised myself I would stick to writing only oneshots, but since the new year began, I became so inspired and have been writing this story like crazy. I really, really want to finish it, so I hope I can keep up with it! For anybody who doesn't know very much about Vampire Academy and would like a simple briefing on it's terms and such, I have a guide on a tumblr account that I created solely for this story. This chapter is already posted there as well. Hmm, and it also has background information and stuff about Fey's spirit abilities if you wanted to check it out. Just go to my profile page, scroll to the bottom and both my Lost Mirror and personal tumblrs are listed there.**

**Sorry if it seems kind of confusing at first. Fey's background and other details are gonna be revealed throughout the first four or so chapters (there's a few flashbacks), so please bear with it, I guess. But if you really want to be filled in prior to a few vague details, like I said, there's some info on my Lost Mirror tumblr.**

**I have no idea whether to class this under romance or not... I mean, nobody is gonna legit hook up (not until the sequel), probably, but there's gonna be a lot of hintage... Should I change it to drama instead, maybe? Tell me off if you think I should switch it. I don't want to deceive anybody.**

**Enjoy reading!**

**PS. To any VA fans who are curious, the present timeline of this story takes place a few years (about three or so) after the book series.**

**Warning: T for Strong Language, Violence, Blood & Gore, and Torture . Also Trigger Warnings for later. Rating may eventually become M.**

**Pairing: Eventual SaruFey. I tried to leave other pairings (such as Fey x Tenma & Tsurugi x Tenma) open for the readers to interpret how they'd like. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Inazuma Eleven or it's characters, nor do I own Vampire Academy or the artwork used for the story's cover. I own nothing, and everything belongs to it's rightful owner/artist. **

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**Chapter One – The Moonlit Prince**

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Fey peered out into the icy winter, his brow furrowed as his arms hugged more tightly around the stuffed toy that he almost always held onto. It was already past dinner time, and his papa hadn't yet come home. Fey could feel it as his eyes began to heat up and sting with tears as he continued to search for any sign of activity outside.

Nothing.

"Papa really isn't coming back?" he spoke out into his dark, empty bedroom, his voice shaking as his tears threatened to spill down his face. He swallowed thickly as a sob came from him at the mere thought, peering down at Robin, his stuffed animal, in hopes that it would somehow reassure him by telling him otherwise.

His papa had been acting quite strangely before he'd left the house only hours ago. He'd given Fey more hugs and kisses than usual, seeming to hold onto him more tightly; more desperately, as if he'd been afraid to let go. And then he'd told Fey that he'd called his sister, Lady Badica, before making Fey promise that he'd take care of himself before leaving him with nothing but a mirror that he stated would protect him. But a reflective decoration couldn't cook him dinner when he was hungry, tuck him into bed at night, nor cuddle him when he travelled to papa's room after having a horrific nightmare.

He didn't want some stupid mirror. Fey just wanted his papa to come home.

But Fey had always been mature for his age, and he knew that the gut feeling he'd had before his father left wasn't for nothing. Papa wasn't coming back... was he?

_'I've already spoken with my sister, and she said they'd pick you up tonight.' _His papa's voice echoed within him, bringing fourth a second sob as it became that much more difficult to restrain his tears. _'Remember to take good care of Moonheart mirror, and that daddy loves you more than anything else in the entire world no matter what, okay, Fey?' _

"Then why...?" Fey's fingers curled around Robin's body in a vice grip, hiccuping as he cried out into the silent, empty space. Perhaps he was surrounded by the familiarity of his room, but it didn't feel as such. Not without his papa. Empty. The entire house felt so empty and lonely, regardless of how many plush toys lined his bed. "If you loved me... then why did you have to go!?"

His little legs could no longer support his quaking body, and the boy couldn't keep from sagging onto the ground as he hugged Robin to his chest as if he were holding his heart and keeping it from shattering into several, scattered pieces. He didn't know what to do. He was scared. So scared. How was any child to cope with the ache that now wracked his entire body?

He hid his burning eyes from his surroundings, burying his face into the top of Robin's head as his whimpers escalated into loud sobs. It felt as if the darkness of the room was wrapping him up in it's blanket, and preparing to swallow him up completely. It was all so scary.

And then there was a sudden, strange tapping sound against the glass window, which immediately silenced Fey's cries. Fey's head snapped up, his minty eyes blinded by tears and his eyebrows darting down in confusion. "H-hello?" he called out uncertainly, releasing a single hand from around Robin so that he could wipe at his tear stricken face. "Papa?" The faintest flicker of hope lit up within him, though deep down, he understood that it was too good to be true. He figured that his papa's sister must have arrived in order to pick him up, just as his papa had clarified.

Regardless, he couldn't keep the pang of fear from consuming him. What if it was a stranger? Would it be one of the scary strangers that he'd heard his papa speaking of? The ones with the red-tinged eyes?

Clumsily, Fey managed to pick himself up from where he sat on his knees on the carpeted floor. "Hello?" his voice rang out yet again, a hint of panic sounding in his tone this time. He glanced over at the mirror that sat in the corner of his room for a brief moment, recalling that it would protect him. But... after being left alone like this, could he truly believe his papa's words? How could he rely on somebody who wasn't even here for him?

Fey's pulse quickened with each passing second he failed to receive a response. Whoever they were, they were outside and he could just barely make out a shadow through the nearby window. The night and falling snow made it difficult to make anything out. He squinted his sore eyes, just barely able to make out a figure until the slightest sliver of moonlight highlighted their features, though for only a passing moment.

Fey sucked in his breath, incapable of breathing as his heart stopped beating in his chest. His mind just barely had enough time to process the fact that this person was unrecognizable to him before they thrust an arm through the window. The sound of smashing glass was deafening, and the impact sent shards flying through the air in all directions. The shock made it almost unnoticeable when a piece shot right past Fey's face, slicing him across the cheek before tumbling to the ground below.

His lip trembled as he watched the dark clad figure climb in through his window, unable to move from where he was frozen in both shock and utmost terror. He could just barely feel it as the cold air from outside struck his face. His paralysis only intensified as the stranger came close enough for Fey to look up into his gleaming eyes. The red ring around them was undeniable.

One as young as Fey even understood that death would soon follow. How would a moroi child who hadn't even specialized yet know how to defend himself from an undead strigoi? His father was absent, and his hope that some magical mirror would save him was nonexistent. Their family possessed a guardian, but Fey wondered if maybe he had left him also. Everyone had left. Everybody hated him.

"Fayah..." the strigoi's breath escaped him in an icy haze as he spoke in a low, harsh tone, "Son of Prince Badica."

Fey's heart sank further in his chest at the mentioning of his name. He tried to slowly backup as the strigoi gradually stepped closer, though tumbled to the ground. His legs wouldn't be able to carry him anywhere – not when they shook so violently. Tears prickled at his eyes once again as he gazed up at the man who was going to kill him. Death was eminent.

When the strigoi's gradual movements evaporated and he suddenly lurched forward, Fey's body seemed to react instantly. His hands suffocating his stuffed toy, a scream tore it's way from him and pierced the night as he threw himself onto his side and picked himself up. He ran as quickly as his little feet would take him, his eyes wide with fear and his breathes rapid. His heart felt as if it may explode.

But before he could even manage to escape the dim room, Fey was yanked by the arm and forced against the intruder's frame. He cried out, his wrist burning underneath the rough grasp of the strigoi's fingers. The lightest twitch could very well have snapped his wrist in two.

"Papa!" Fey shrieked, Robin falling from his loosened fingers and hitting the floor. He squirmed and writhed in the undead vampire's grip, unwilling to let it all end here despite his awareness of the entire situation. An unprotected moroi rarely escaped the deadly clutches of a strigoi, let alone a moroi who just happened to be a child. He'd been left for dead.

"Papa!" Fey's tone turned pleading, though he knew that no one, his papa in particular, would come to save him. Perhaps this was what his papa had planned all along. Maybe papa wanted him dead... because he hated him.

"Your 'papa's' not coming," the strigoi's tone danced with amusement, "He left you. He won't be coming back. Not for you. But..." He smirked as another flood of moonlight managed to break through the snow clouds, highlighting the strigoi's unpleasant facial features. "_You_ could find _him_."

Fey blinked away tears, peering up at him doubtfully. Steel fingers continued to clasp around his wrist, but he was somewhat relieved that the strigoi wasn't eager to kill him. He'd heard from his father that strigoi did not always kill the moroi they encountered, but imprisoned or 'turned' them instead. Whatever that meant. Maybe this undead vampire would not kill him. If that had been his desire, wouldn't he already be dead by now?

"What?" Fey's voice was quiet, a soft sob following his tentative response.

"Prince Badica left you, didn't he?" the strigoi knelt down ever so slightly, running cold fingers along the side of Fey's throat until they drifted to where blood from the cut on his face trickled across his jawline. The boy swallowed thickly at the sensation, shivering. "If that's the case, then don't you hate him for it?"

"Hate him?" Fey repeated the words carefully, a furrow appearing between his eyebrows. He was hurt, and angry that his papa could leave him all alone with nothing but Robin and some mirror when the world was filled with horrible people like the strigoi who currently held him captive... But did he hate him? He was much too conflicted to sort out his feelings right then. The strigoi's uninvited appearance hadn't helped. "But... Papa left me... because he probably hates _me_."

The strigoi released Fey's wrist, much to his surprise. The green haired boy tenderly rubbed at it's bruised surface, trying his best not to cry at the pain that hung there. "If your daddy hates you, then how about I help you look for him?" Fey's eyes sparkled at the offer, though scepticism was quick to return once the strigoi continued, "And once you find him, you can kill him."

"Wha-"

He was sharply cut off as the strigoi's fingers left the trail of blood against his porcelain skin and instead angrily took hold of his chin and tilted his head up. Fey whimpered, questioning whether the strigoi really would kill him this time. The wild look in those red tinged eyes frightened him back into a quaking state. "He left you! You should hate him! Wouldn't you just love to execute your revenge with your own two hands!?" the undead vampire urged, "I can help you. If you turn, your senses will be perfect. You could use them to find your dear, sweet 'papa.' To execute your revenge."

There was that word again.

Based on the madness that gleamed in those eyes, Fey wondered if maybe he should be afraid of this 'turning' after all. If he 'turned,' then would he be forced to kill papa? Whether he hated him or not... that wasn't what Fey wanted. Finding him, however, was a very tempting offer.

"...If I... 'turn,' will I be able to see papa again?" Even Fey understood that his choices resided between either death or becoming what he assumed would be a strigoi himself. That was most probable. In death, he would never be able to see papa again. But if he turned... maybe, just maybe, he could track papa down and receive answers to all of the questions he harboured in his heart.

"Indeed," he basically purred, a thumb caressing the child's jawline, "I can turn you. Though it's a shame you're not older."

"B-but..." even through the fear, Fey stated quite matter-of-factly, "I won't kill papa."

The strigoi frowned, hesitating for a moment. He seemed to be considering the words. But apparently that couldn't be the case. Not when the strigoi lashed out, squeezing tight fingers around the boy's neck. He lifted him from the ground with ease. Panic settled within the pit of Fey's stomach yet again at the unexpected assault, and alarmed screams pierced the night until they were muffled and choked into feeble sounds by the strigoi's sheer strength. "You don't have much of a choice," he hissed, revealing a sharp set of fangs. Fey's eyes widened at the sight, a strangled scream coming from him as those fangs ripped into the flesh of his throat once released from the strigoi's choke hold. He hit the floor hard, though fought against the jaw that had locked around his neck moments after. He attempted to crawl away, but it seemed resisting cost him ever the more pain.

"I...I'm so scared," he managed to whimper, choking on tears and the discomfort that the bite gave him. Though it lasted only seconds as the pain suddenly vanished, a blissful feeling that Fey had never experienced before instead replacing it. His mind clouded over, overwhelmed by the sheer amounts of pleasure that his body was experiencing right then.

Endorphins. Both moroi and strigoi saliva was coated in drug-like endorphins that left the one being fed from in a sort of high. Strigoi bites being even more potent. Moroi kids from the other royal families had spoken about bites – about how good they apparently felt. But Fey had never imagined that it would feel like this. Never had he experienced something so incredible.

A soft moan came from him, and if it weren't for the lasting effect, he would have been extremely disappointed as the strigoi withdrew from him.

Fey barely even noticed it when the undead vampire dragged Fey's head into his lap, driving the fangs that were still coated in Fey's blood into his very own wrist. He drew some of his own crimson life force, pressing the injury against Fey's lips. The boy was far too muddled to make arguments, by this point.

His tears now nothing but a stain on his face, Fey accepted the strigoi's blood. His nose scrunched up at the odd taste, but who cared when feeling such an incredible buzz? Perhaps if he did as he was directed, the strigoi would bite him all over again.

_'No!' _

A sudden voice? A sudden _familiar _voice.

Fey just barely managed to process it, his foggy orbs fluttering open reluctantly. The strigoi continued to feed him, and he could hardly make sense of even that, let alone whether or not a third person accompanied them. He refused to fight the urge to close his eyes again, content and wanting nothing more than to sleep by this point. Yes... sleep while continuing to feel the bliss that surrounded him, though it was becoming faintly dimmer.

_'Wake up! Just wake up!' _the voice basically begged, a crack sounding in it's voice. It sounded so scared... _'Moonlight! I need moonlight!' _

Not even a moment later, Fey lurched out of bed, blinking tear-stricken eyes as they attempted to penetrate the darkness in this bedroom that was significantly different from the one only moments ago. He gasped, as if choking on the very air – rendered breathless as his panicked heart tried it's utmost to return to a steadier pace. More tears leaked from his eyes and ran down his face, but he paid little to no attention to them, instead gasping a second time once he felt a hand against his tense shoulder.

He automatically went to swat it away, but quickly stopped himself when he realized that it was impossible for it to be the strigoi from his dream. Fuzzily, he made out the face of a fellow moroi – a water user who occupied the dorm room next to his.

"Fey, calm down! It was only a dream!" the other moroi hushed him, their hold against his trembling shoulder quite firm.

The sixteen year old boy let his face fall into his hands as he bit the inside of his mouth, frustration seeping into him. "Kirino..." his muffled voice escaped him, an unsteadiness remaining within it, "It was probably just another demented dream caused by spirit." He hated it when others witnessed him this way. "I'm fine."

Kirino tilted his head to the side ever so slightly, unconvinced that Fey was 'fine,' as he put it. "You were crying out in your sleep..."

Fey frowned, unknowing of how to respond. Kirino was always the first person to rush to his side but that was only because Kirino happened to be his neighbour. His cries often woke the other, but Fey wouldn't say that the two were close friends or anything like that. It was hard enough to share moments like these with Tenma, but with somebody who he couldn't completely trust even? The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth.

"Is the moon out yet?" Fey ignored Kirino's prior statement, eager to cure his mind of it's crazed state. His thoughts raced and his mental state felt anything but stable. He was desperate to ease himself of it.

A furrow appeared in Kirino's brow and he slowly shook his head, "No... Not yet. Morning isn't for a few more hours."

Moroi tended to live on a different schedule from humans – their 'nighttime' being a human's daytime. It was sometimes a topic of dismay for many dhampirs, but for a moroi, they functioned far better without any intense sunlight. They grew exhausted at a much swifter pace, otherwise.

Fey's troubled eyes wandered to the nearby window. His curtains were thick in order to keep any sunlight from filtering inside his room as he slept, but he could sense that Kirino's words were true. If the moon was visible, than he would have felt it by now.

He sighed, unable to hide his disappointment. He hated restless nights like these. He would simply try and sleep some more in order to escape the deranged and erratic jumbling of his thoughts, but deemed it unlikely. He feared sleep, as he couldn't keep from feeling that another spirit induced dream would follow. A dream that stemmed from the instability of his mind. He would much rather deal with his current state, then risk having a dream that revolved around the conflicted feelings he carried for his father in which spirit only intensified.

Fey shakily climbed out of bed, dangling his legs over it's edge. He wrapped his arms around himself, appearing cold when really he hoped to keep himself together somehow. His breathing and pulse had steadied, but a cold pit remained within his stomach.

"Thank you for checking on me," Fey forced a weak smile, "You're probably tired, so you can head back to bed, if you'd like. I'm fine now."

Kirino looked more concerned then he did relieved by the offer, "Are _you_ not going back to bed?"

Fey dodged Kirino's look, peering into his lap instead. He was a terrible liar and understood that Kirino would be able to read him if he met his bright eyes. "I just thought I'd get a glass of water first." Fey shuddered at his own tone of voice, realizing how rigid it sounded.

Kirino seemed to hesitate, though walked over to the doorway, regardless. "Okay," he began sincerely, "But if you need anything – anything at all – you know where to find me. Make sure you try to get some sleep. Classes come early."

Fey simply nodded at that, directing a tired smile at the other before he gave him one last reassuring look in return and then disappeared through the open doorway. Kirino gently closed the door behind him, and Fey couldn't keep from feeling colder at the sudden loneliness that inhabited his room. It somehow took him back to that dimly lit room from his dream – a room he had been trying to forget about since his so-called father's abandonment. Minus the strigoi, of course. Portions of said dream may have been linked to his memories, but he assumed that strigoi had been a work of his dark imagination. He'd never even come into contact with any strigoi before, and he hoped it would remain that way.

He'd been lucky for a moroi who'd been a bit of a Vagabond before ending up at St. Vladimir's Academy, where he now resided and received his education under an alias.

Slowly, Fey hugged his hands around himself slightly tighter, standing from where he sat on his bed. He had a few hours to kill before spirit would wrap him up within it's warm embrace, granting him lunar empowerment: an ability available to him only through the use of spirit. It was then that he could finally free himself of his weakened state and erratic mind.

He wandered over to a desk that sat against the far wall. A closed laptop and a few books from the library were scattered along it's surface, and Fey thought about maybe going through one and conducting some of his usual research. That, or he thought about maybe checking his emails for any new leads. But he wondered if he'd even be able to concentrate, and instead found his minty coloured eyes lingering on the drawer of his desk. He knew very well what was inside, keeping it concealed for good reason. He could've just thrown it away, but simply didn't have the heart for that. It bothered him, nonetheless.

With a hesitant touch, he pulled the drawer open, peering down at a raggedy plush toy that his father had given him so, so many years ago. Fey closed the drawer with a small sigh, pondering to himself whether his dream was true to his feelings or not. Did spirit aggravate feelings that were already present within him? Did some part of him truly desire revenge against his father, and was he willing to go so far as becoming a strigoi for it? The possibility frightened him.

Years back, he'd begun exclaiming hate for his father. But was it true? He wasn't even completely sure how to feel about it, even still. He'd much rather not think about it at all, concluding that spirit was messing his head up and nothing more.

It wasn't as if Robin would give him any answers anyway.

With another soft sigh, Fey made his way over to the window, pulling back the curtain just slightly enough to look out into the brightly lit world outside. He squinted his eyes as the glowing rays of the sun washed over his face. He could feel it's warmth, and perhaps it was pleasant for a dhampir, but he couldn't keep from shying away from it. It was odd for porcelain skin and mint green orbs that were accustomed to incandescence, candlelight, star filled skies and moonlight. He could endure sunlight, unlike the undead vampires, but was uncomfortable with it all the same. He sometimes wondered if having a sort of affinity for the moon through spirit made the sun even less tolerable for him.

The green haired boy released the curtain from his pale fingers, letting it fall back into place before his sights swept across the room one final time, and he then came to the conclusion that nothing he did here would help pass any time. He wandered to the door after dressing himself in a white collared shirt, an orange hoodie with black cuffs and thumb holes, and black sweatpants, placing a hand on the doorknob. St. Vladimir's Academy, like any boarding school, had a curfew set in place, but Fey figured that the guardians wouldn't be so strict what with it being the very early morning by this point anyway.

He couldn't possibly be the only person to have trouble sleeping. That, or perhaps there were early risers. Tenma had once mentioned that some dhampirs were hardworking to the point where they trained even before their classes began, fitting it into the early morning hours. Fey wouldn't have been surprised if a few feeders were already prepared, even.

Gently opening the door, Fey poked his head out, gazing upon the empty halls. There was something eerie about it, but Fey was thankful enough that he couldn't spot any guardians that roamed the halls. They wouldn't necessarily send him back to his room, but Fey wasn't in the mood to explain himself either. He desired to avoid people, if he could.

He slipped out from his room with soft footsteps, closing the door quietly behind him.

He didn't exactly have any plans on where to go from there, but anything had to be better than sitting around in his room while continuously recalling his nightmare. That, and he hated to allow himself time to think at all when he was in need of healing. Spirit gave him strange, dark thoughts. The last thing he needed was to succumb to his spirit further.

Fey hadn't even made it out of the moroi dorms when a pair of footsteps caught his attention. He stopped where he stood, his eyes narrowing. They were far too clumsy to be that of a professional guardian... But if not a guardian, then who? Another moroi? Despite common sense, adrenaline seeped into Fey's bloodstream as paranoia prepared him for the worst. Not that the wards would allow for strigoi to enter school grounds in the first place, nor would a strigoi's steps be audible, but spirit was capable of blinding the obvious.

Fey could feel it as his heart picked up in his chest, throbbing more rapidly with each passing second as he detached himself from where he stood. He walked at a faster pace down the empty halls, desperate to reach it's end. If he could reach the outside – the sun – than he would be okay. He was safe outside, assuming the sun still hung in the sky.

Fey shook his head of the thoughts, reassuring himself that of course the sun was still visible. If it were dark, he would feel the moon's presence.

"Crap!" Fey froze again as a frantic, hushed voice pierced the silence of the dorms, "A fucking moroi's over there!"

"Well, at least he's not a guardian!" a female's voice followed.

Puzzled, the adrenaline within Fey was quick to die, and he turned around to realize that two dhampirs were the source of the sounds that had brought about his fit. Fey couldn't help but feel relieved, taking in the frantic faces of the two who stood several feet down the hall. All the while, he couldn't help but feel frustrated with himself for overreacting. A cold sweat coated him, and he was more desperate than ever to bask in the moonlight that would follow after the setting of the orange sun. When he started acting this way, that was a clear indication that he needed it. Not that he always noticed.

"H-hello?" Fey called out uncertainly, keeping his own tone as hushed as their own as it was obvious they were sneaking around in hopes that they wouldn't be caught. It didn't seem a guardian was present on this floor at the moment, as they would have been caught long before now.

One of the dhampir's was tall, while the other was a dhampir female who looked to be quite tall herself, probably as tall as Fey if not more so. The male wore a black headband around his snow white head of hair, and even from a distance, Fey could read the sharpness of his plum coloured eyes. The girl's pink hair was pulled up into a high ponytail of sorts, bringing out the light blue colour of her sheepish eyes. She didn't seem as rigid as the dhampir male, instead closing the space between her and Fey with a smile that was just as sheepish as the look in her eyes. Uncertainly, the other followed after her, a hand clutching his head. It wasn't until they were closer that Fey realized they were both suffering hangovers.

"You won't tell anybody about this, right?" the girl clapped her hands together in what seemed like a small prayer in hopes that he would agree. "You know Hayato Matatagi, right? Well, he's our friend over here in the moroi dorms and I guess we lost track of time. Before we knew it, it was the morning." A nervous laugh escaped her parted lips.

Ibuki groaned next to her, clearly enduring a headache that was much worse than that of the pinked haired girl. "Figured we'd best sneak off before everybody wakes up," he continued for her, wincing a bit at the pain that struck his head.

Fey gave them a small smile, unable to keep from wondering whether spirit would be capable of healing a hangover or not... He could just barely shake off the curiosity. The only reason being that the timing was far from impeccable. He didn't want to increase the risk of getting them caught by a guardian. That, and it wasn't as if he would be capable of testing that theory out until the moon rose anyway. He couldn't wield any of his healing abilities until lunar empowerment came into effect. "Don't worry about it. I'm trying to make my escape too, so how about we go together?"

Their eyes lit up with surprise, as a lot of moroi – the population mostly being royal – tended to be somewhat pompous. It could be difficult to find moroi who were amiable with anybody outside of their inner circle. Fey was originally from the Badica family himself, meaning he of course was royal. But he had long ago discarded both his name and his royal status. He went by Fey Rune now, and preferred if it would remain as such. Only relatives who attended the school or the odd family friend of the Badica's would recognize him, and even then, they hadn't spilled his secret.

Not only was he trying to stay under the Badica's radar, but he preferred to keep to himself in general, also. If he were known to be a royal – Prince Badica's son no less - others would swarm him and try to make him apart of their inner circle. Hanging around with royals was the most notable way to become popular at the academy.

Though royal blood or not, Fey was a sincere person by nature. Whether he'd remained with his royal relatives or not could not sway his kindhearted personality.

So basically, not all royals were snobs. Just the majority, or so high school seemed insistent on proving.

"Thanks so much!" the girl's gratitude brightened her facial features, "I'm Sakura, and this is Ibuki! You are?" She gestured to the white haired boy and then looked back to Fey as they walked together. Fey guided them, as he figured he was far more familiar with the moroi dorms, despite their similar set up. He could get them out faster while also avoiding any guardians, hopefully.

Ibuki raised an eyebrow, pressing his lips together as if he was in deep thought. Though that didn't seem to be much of a good idea... not with how much his head seemed to hurt even _without _putting much thought into anything.

"I'm Fey. Fey Rune."

Ibuki snapped his fingers together and exclaimed, "Wait! You're that spirit user, right?"

Since entering high school, those around him had become a lot more curious about the rituals that revolved around bathing in moonlight. That, and by his absence in each and every elemental class. Oh, right – and no one could forget that one time when Fey had completely lost it at another student under the influence of spirit. Until then, he'd never brought any attention upon himself, which had made the outburst all the more shocking. It never took long for gossip to spread when oddities were presented among them.

"I suppose," Fey gave him a wry smile, wondering whether the things they'd heard about him were either good or bad. It didn't really matter regardless. Fey may have believed in showing kindness towards others, stranger or not. But he was rarely willing to invite others into his heart. How could he when everybody he wound up loving always left?

Any prior unease vanished as the three made their way out into the courtyard, the crisp evening air gently caressing their strands of hair. Ibuki seemed pleased if only for a moment, despite his hangover, at the warmth of the sun on his face. His purple orbs, however, only ached more at the brightness. He squeezed them shut, groaning again.

His tone sounded stiffer then before because of it. "I thought so. I recognized you. You're the moroi who put Zanark in his place. It was pretty funny."

Fey didn't know how to feel about that. The way spirit made him act at times was far from being 'funny', but even to this day, Fey hardly regretted it. It wasn't as if things had gotten out of hand. Besides, that brusque dhampir had sort of deserved it.

Sakura must have witnessed it as well considering she joined in, her index finger raised at the green haired moroi as she added, "Well that guy is such a jerk! It's insulting that he's a novice like us. I mean, nobody's gonna take him on as their guardian once he graduates. Not with an attitude like that!"

Fey chuckled sheepishly at that, unable to bring himself to say otherwise. Not that Fey agreed with talking behind people's backs. It was just difficult to find any reasons to defend him, even for Fey. Hell, even Tenma, who always appeared to see the good in everybody, would most likely stumble on that one. So he concluded that he'd remain nonchalant, if anything.

"I mean, he _is _really strong," Ibuki had come up with a reason to defend him, apparently. Or at least acknowledge him, somewhat. It was probably an easier task for a dhampir who often trained with him. The only time Fey ever saw him was when the moroi and dhampirs had shared classes after lunch. "He's the top in our class -"

"Unfortunately," Sakura seemed to glower, though Ibuki continued anyway.

"So I guess there's gonna be _someone_ out there who wants him. I honestly don't care. Long as I understand how strong _I _am, and that I have a bright future ahead of me, that's all that matters. He'll hire me no matter what!" Ibuki fist pumped the air in front of him, wincing afterwards as his hand immediately went back to cup the side of his head.

Spirit made it fairly easier to read the emotions of other people, but spirit or no spirit, Ibuki seemed to wear his heart on his sleeve. Fey could tell that Ibuki was desperate to please somebody. A moroi, maybe. It seemed by his tone of voice that he had a moroi in mind that he wished to protect – one that he pushed himself for.

It must have been nice for that moroi to have somebody so dedicated to them...

"_Him?" _Fey mused, "As in the moroi you want to protect?"

Sakura giggled, "God, yeah. Ibuki's obsessed."

Fey didn't wish to pry, but he couldn't help but wonder how that must have felt. It must have been a pretty nice feeling to have. He didn't question specifics, though wondered if maybe Ibuki was loyal to the friend they'd gone to see (and had apparently partied all night long with?), Hayato Matatagi. If Fey recalled properly, Hayato was a fire user who tended to keep to himself, much like Fey did. Apparently he came from a non-royal family and worked rather hard for both himself and his siblings who attended the elementary campus. Meaning, he most likely worked part-time jobs and such.

Fey hoped for the best between them, if that was the case, though couldn't deny the fact that non-royals had a lot more difficulty receiving guardians at all, let alone a specific one. He still questioned if maybe he himself should reclaim his royal name once it came down to sending in his request for a guardian. But if he couldn't have Tenma as his guardian, then he wasn't bothered to receive one period. So it probably wouldn't need to come down to him reclaiming his name anyway. Tenma had his sights set on a different royal family.

Ibuki knitted his eyebrows together defensively, snapping through his embarrassment, "S-shut up! I'm not _obsessed..." _he trailed off, clearly trying to come up with a better term. It didn't seem he would be successful – not with a sluggish, aching mind. "I-"

"You're devoted," Fey finished for him thoughtfully. Ibuki blinked over at him, appearing surprised that he hadn't joined Sakura in teasing him. "I think that's a respectable trait to have." He understood that guardians were meant to be 'devoted' to begin with, but it would be nice to have a guardian who was loyal to you on an emotional level, also. At least, that's what Fey thought.

Ibuki quickly reclaimed his cool, nodding knowingly as a smirk crossed his lips, "Exactly. Zanark's skill may surpass my own for the time being, but no one can even hold a candle to my sheer dedication."

"Ooh?" Sakura cooed, leaning her face in towards him, "We'll see who surpasses Zanark first."

Fey's timid smile remained at their conversation. He couldn't keep from wondering if maybe competitiveness was a nature prone to dhampir novices. The professional guardians all seemed so cool-headed and aloof. It was amusing. Someday, the two of them would be out protecting moroi on a professional field, deadly and fierce and dependable.

"Hmmm," Fey mumbled to himself, pressing a finger to his lips, "Then again... Tenma's not really like that." At least, he didn't think so. Who knew how quarrelsome dhampirs became in their novice-only classes. Those revolved around a lot of physical activity, or so Fey had gathered.

"Sorry?" Sakura's blue eyes were suddenly on him.

He shook his head a bit, glancing down at the ground below, "A-ah, it's nothing. I was just thinking about one of my friends. He's a dhampir too." Fey paused, linking his fingers together behind his back as the three of them came to a stop at the dhampir dorms. "Are the both of you seniors? If so, you'd probably know him."

If the two of them knew Zanark, then it was likely. Then again, Fey wouldn't have doubted it if even the juniors and freshman had heard stories about his attitude problems. Heck, maybe even the elementary campus.

"Got that right!" Sakura extended her arms out in front of her in a sort of stretch, an uncertain chuckle sounding from her lips as her hands dropped back down to her sides, "We're totally nervous for the upcoming field exam though."

"Says you," Ibuki crossed his arms over his chest.

Sakura poked him, "Aww, come on. You're totally nervous."

He flinched at her touch, seeming to frown further. It was evident to Fey that she told the truth. Ibuki was just being stubborn about it. "Yeah, whatever," he brushed her comment aside, plum coloured eyes steadily watching Fey, "But your friend. Would it happen to be..." his memory struggled with the name, "_Something_ Matsukaze... Ugh, I don't remember. But I kinda remember seeing him with you when you flipped the hell out of Zanark."

"Yeah, Tenma. Tenma Matsukaze."

Sakura nodded, "Yeah, we know him. We share a few classes together, though he tends to spend more time with a different group of people then us, so we don't talk all too much. We're on friendly terms though. He's a really nice guy, huh?"

Fey's face automatically lit up with a smile at the words that his friend so very deserved. Tenma was always compassionate and welcoming with just about everybody, and Fey wouldn't ever trust anybody as much as he did Tenma. Tenma was the one person who he knew wouldn't ever hurt him or turn his back on him. Not like the way everybody else seemed to. Tenma was different.

"There's nothing either of us could say that would express what an amazing person Tenma is," Fey's words were so thoughtful, and stated with such sweet warmth, that both Sakura and Ibuki nearly found themselves blushing in his wake. Or perhaps spirit drew them in. Hosts of spirit, whether it was in direct use or not, seemed to have their way of charming people. Not that such had kept anybody around permanently, with Tenma as the only exception. "He saved me." Fey added in a tone so soft that it went unheard.

"He's small for a guardian, but he works hard and he seems to have a good head on his shoulders," Ibuki shrugged, clearly bothered by the prolonged exposure to the brightness of the outside. But his words were genuine to how he truly felt. He held a fair amount of respect for the brunette, and Fey was pleased to hear that other novices regarded him in such a way.

Wishing he could've tested out his healing abilities on hangovers after all at seeing it's effect on Ibuki, Fey gave Ibuki a sympathetic glance before mentioning, "I've held you both up long enough. You probably wanted to sleep another hour or so." He couldn't blame them, considering they obviously felt like crap. "I'll let you go! Sorry to keep you so long."

Sakura shook her pink coloured head. The short ponytail on her head bobbed to the motion. "Don't apologize! Thanks so much for helping us back there! I can only imagine how the guardians would've punished us, otherwise. Maybe they would've made our field exam a living hell, even. We owe you. If anything, we should apologize for dragging you into our mess."

"Not at all. I figured we may as well go together."

"Yeah. I won't ask why, but it's strange for a moroi to be up this early if they really don't need to be," Sakura tucked a stray piece of pink hair behind her ear, clearly curious as to why Fey had been leaving the dorm in the first place, "Anyhow, we'll probably be seeing each other around." She directed a small wave at him before she and Ibuki approached the entrance to their own building: the one where the dhampir dorm rooms resided. No words from Ibuki followed, but he gave a sluggish wave before stumbling inside. It seemed he was about to pass out at any given moment.

Maybe he wasn't willing to hand his heart out or anything so extreme, but Fey couldn't deny the genuine smile that occupied his face as he watched them leave. It wasn't often that he made the effort to mingle, but he was somewhat happy by the positive interaction. It wasn't as if others bothered to approach him either. Not unless they came to him with questions about spirit. Some people even came to him for nothing but a healing request, and even though he fully understood that he was being used and that the other would have nothing to do with him afterwards, Fey couldn't say no to spirit use. He felt compelled to use it, especially when the one before him was injured in some way. He couldn't stand by and do nothing when he had the capabilities. But this had been different. They'd known he was a spirit user, but hadn't asked anything of him or attempted to manipulate him by sucking up to him. They'd treated him rather normally. On friendly terms, even.

It'd been nice, even if he knew deep down Tenma was the only person he'd ever truly need.

"Fey?" the moroi jumped at the sudden call of his name, breaking away from his thoughts as he realized he still stood outside of the building used for the dhampir dorms. He didn't even realize until just that he had begun to sweat underneath the sun's harsh touch. It hung above him, though was sinking further towards the horizon. By 4:30 PM or so, it would most likely be aglow in preparation for sunset. That wasn't for another forty or so minutes. Currently, they were in the early wintertime and the daytime was growing shorter and shorter by the day. It was in Fey's interest that daytime grew shorter while the nighttime prospered. The time of the moon was when he felt most alive, and winter would have been his favourite season because of it if not for personal reasons that caused him to dislike it.

The green haired boy whipped his head in the direction of the voice, his heart stopping in his chest before easing back into a steady pulse at the sight of the guardian who approached him.

Fey couldn't remember his name right then, but he recalled that he'd given him a ring infused with spirit at some point or another. Unlike nosy students, the guardians didn't demand him of it, but he volunteered. If he could help them protect their school in any way possible, then he was glad to aid the guardians in even the smallest of ways.

He watched as the dark haired guardian pressed his lips together in what might have been concern or disapproval. He appeared young for a guardian – possibly the youngest professional on campus – and he often wore leather gloves over his hands, which he'd never seen any of the other guardians adorn themselves with. So they weren't uniform protocol. It had sorta become this guardian's trademark.

"What are you doing up already?" his teal eyes watched him steadily, and there was a composed air about him that many guardians possessed. Fey couldn't keep from noticing how thick and attractive his lashes were. It was something Fey had heard the female (and some male) populace rave about. "Do you not feel well? Is it due to spirit?"

Fey wished he could recall the man's name and he searched his mind for it, but it was a difficult task when he dealt with so many of the other guardians also. Plus this one was new, only arriving over the summer. Fey's lack of concentration due to his high desire to use spirit wasn't helping either. The sun beating down on his face all this time only reminded him that much more desperately. He wanted that light replaced by the moon so, so badly.

"No, I'm fine," Fey assured him with a soft look, "I just couldn't sleep. So I thought I'd check to see if any feeders are prepared."

"Not yet," the guardian responded, his facial features barely changing, "But I did see Shirou Fubuki in his office. I'm sure he'd be willing to speak with you, if you needed it."

Due to the suggestion, it was obvious that the guardian was far from convinced that Fey was fine. It irked the greenette a bit more than it should have, as he'd told him he simply couldn't sleep. But no. Spirit was always the suspect. He didn't need to be treated like some mental case... Or perhaps the slight flare of anger within him was spirit talking, and it was only proving the guardian's point that maybe he should speak with somebody: Fubuki in particular.

Fey clenched his jaw as his mind began to whirl that much more violently. It took everything within him to keep from snapping darkly. "I already have an appointment booked with him after classes are over."

The guardian sensed the change in him almost instantly, but continued to push the subject regardless. Spirit was taking it's toll on him, and he understood that it was Fubuki who monitored that. "I think it'd be nice just to talk to him. It'll pass the time. Then before you know it, it'll be nighttime." He paused, his facial features growing surprisingly compassionate for a guardian, "You always feel really amazing in the moonlight, right? I can tell."

Fey slowly nodded, watching as the guardian fished a hand through his coat pocket. He pulled out a silver ring, laying it down against his gloved palm. "Remember when you made this for me?" he asked, glancing down at the ring with heavily lashed eyes, "What did you call it? A moon ring?" He paused again. "You seemed really happy when you charmed it. And to be honest, it's been a great help to me." He smiled – a rare sight coming from a guardian. It was such a pleasant sight that Fey could hardly even remember his anger. "I'd love it if you could replenish it's magic for me later too."

"S-sure, I -"

"Toramaru!" another voice joined them, this one being more distant and firm. "What are you doing!? What's that Moroi doing up?"

Fey didn't know how to react first – shocked at the sudden appearance of a second guardian, or relieved that said guardian had given him the name he'd been poking and prodding his brain for. Toramaru: that was the new guardian's name!

The other guardian (who Fey actually remembered the name for), Ichirouta Kazemaru, advanced on them. He had a serious expression written on his face, almost as if he was prepared for any danger right then and there. Well, he probably was. Fey had heard that Kazemaru had been working at the school even when it had been attacked by a large group of strigoi a few years back. Apparently, Kazemaru had been greatly affected by that night. Many had. Though Fey wondered if maybe he had PTSD. He also wondered if maybe he was capable of healing it, if that was the case...

Fey could remember hearing about the night it had happened, and even though he had been little, he could remember how frightful everybody had been for their families. The high school campus had suffered casualties, but luckily a dhampir girl and a moroi fire user had done a lot to protect the elementary campus from getting even the slightest bit breached.

Toramaru slipped the ring back into his pocket, his guardian composure returning to him.

"Is everything alright?" Kazemaru's alert set of orbs flashed between Toramaru and Fey multiple times once he came to a standstill before them, his hand hovering over where Fey knew he carried his silver stake.

Toramaru nodded, "Yeah, this is Fey. I was just about to escort him to Fubuki's office."

Realization flashed in Kazemaru's chestnut coloured eyes. His hand withdrew from his stake and fell to his side. The serious air about him died down a little bit as well. "Oh, right, I'm sorry Fey," he crossed his arms over his chest, "I automatically reacted due to suspicion when I saw a moroi up and awake at this hour, but I didn't stop to think that it could be you. Having trouble sleeping?"

"More or less," Fey smiled sheepishly, hoping that this conversation wouldn't go in a dangerous direction. He didn't need the guardians to baby him just because he was a spirit user. But he'd calmed down significantly at Toramaru's earlier words. So he didn't think that he'd be on the brink of snapping again. Or at least, he hoped not.

"Hmm, well I suppose I should leave you to carry out your business," Kazemaru's attention was redirected towards Toramaru the next time he spoke, and the gentler facial features he'd had while speaking with Fey were replaced by his more stern disposition. "Once you've taken Fey inside, make sure to return to your post, Toramaru."

Toramaru nodded at the more experienced guardian, pressing a hand against Fey's shoulder as if to guide him forward. He peered over his shoulder, watching as Kazemaru turned away, heading off across the courtyard. Fey's minty tinged eyes widened in a mix of both heartache and captivation as Kazemaru's ponytail swept through the air along with his movements, revealing the Zvezda mark that he bore on the surface of his neck. Out of curiosity, once he turned away, he gingerly glanced up at Toramaru's paler coloured throat, realizing that nothing but the promise mark coated it's surface. It seemed so naked when compared to the other guardians on campus. Even more so compared to the guardians who fought outside of the school.

The wards kept everybody save, assuring that no strigoi could enter school grounds. The academy and the royal court were two of the safest places to be, so it wasn't as if the guardians assigned to the school were given many opportunities to receive molnija marks anyway.

Fey could only assume that Kazemaru had received his own marks during that attack a few years back...

If Toramaru ever noticed the greenete's staring, which he most likely had, he remained mute about it. He escorted Fey through the empty halls, only the sound of their footsteps breaking the silence that surrounded them. Toramaru would nod at any passing guardians, and they would do the same, but that was about the only contact they encountered on their short walk to the office where Fubuki currently resided.

Fey was all too familiar with it. The school had arranged appointments with the school's therapist for him since he'd first arrived. He wasn't sure whether it had at first been stemmed by his antisocial behaviour or because he was involved with spirit. By now, he figured that he was encouraged to attend these sorts of sessions for both reasons. Presently, spirit was much more of an issue, though. Fey had been eased of his vast amounts of loneliness since meeting Tenma at the high school campus. It remained, though wasn't quite as severe.

Fubuki peered up from his desk, his eyes having been glued to a few papers that laid scattered on his desk. His eyes meeting Fey's, he pushed them to the side and smiled warmly, "Fey. Toramaru. What a pleasant surprise."

"Good morning, Fubuki," Toramaru greeted him with the nod his head – similar to how he'd greeted other guardians they'd passed along the way. Fey tensed up when Toramaru placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed at it lightly. "I think that Fey's having trouble sleeping, so I was hoping that maybe you'd be able to talk with him? Just until the other students are due. Then Fey can go off and do what it is he does once the moon's out." Toramaru paused. "I mean, I'm pretty sure I never heard any reports of snow clouds or anything like that. And it isn't going to be a new moon."

Fey's heart clenched at Toramaru's words, and he couldn't keep from gasping to himself quietly. He clasped onto the edge of his hoodie, trying to think back to what the TV had said about any weather conditions. If the clouds happened to be too thick... then the moon wouldn't be able to penetrate them. And that meant that he wouldn't be able to heal either.

He already knew that there wouldn't be a new moon... He couldn't ever overlook something like that. He dreaded those nights the most.

"Was it supposed to snow at some point today?" Fey managed to ask, tightening his fingers around the fabric of his hoodie in hopes that he didn't appear too desperate for the answer. Toramaru's hold on him only made him feel all the more self-conscious. Could he feel his nervous heartbeat vibrating through his leather clad fingers?

Fubuki stood from his chair, walking over to a shelf that stood in the corner of the room. Fubuki took a ceramic cup with gorgeous golden lining from it's surface, preparing what must have been tea. "I don't believe I heard anything about snow on the weather channel," Fubuki interjected. He gave Toramaru a sheepish look. "Thanks for bringing him to me, Toramaru. But you really shouldn't say insensitive things. Now you've gone and worried him."

"Ah- I," Toramaru's hand withdrew from Fey's shoulder as his head whipped down to take in the moroi's posture. The fact that he'd never even noticed, and now seemed somewhat frantic, was another trait of his that was odd for a guardian to display. "I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean -"

"But never mind that," Fubuki gave Toramaru a knowing look before redirecting his attention back to the tea that he was preparing, "Feel free to take a seat, Fey. I'll make you some Lemon Balm tea."

Thanking his therapist modestly, Fey gingerly obeyed him. He released his hand from where it had tightly clamped onto the end of his hoodie, wiping his stiff fingers along the surface of his black track pants in a sort of attempt to stretch them out before he sat down. He rested his hands in his lap, swallowing thickly and hoping that the moon would make an early appearance. He was beyond restless for it by this point, and wondered if maybe the tea Fubuki was preparing for him would help calm him somehow. If Fey remembered his tea facts correctly, than he vaguely recalled that Lemon Balm tea was good for soothing headaches or something like that. Any other effects, or if that was even the proper one, Fey couldn't remember.

"Would you like some as well, Toramaru?" Fubuki invited.

But the young guardian, having recollected himself, shook his head from side to side, "No thanks, Fubuki. I should most likely head back." He looked over to Fey, "Take care, Fey. Expect to be seeing me around. I still need you to restore the magic in my ring." His tone was more so encouraging than it was demanding. He said such in more of a regard to Fey's emotions, than desperately needing the ring's magic. He understood that it made Fey happy to help them out.

"You can pop by once I'm done classes, if you'd like?" Fey offered.

"Sounds good." And with that, the young guardian took his leave. He wasn't willing to witness Kazemaru's foul mood at his own tardiness. He was already more than aware that half of the guardians on campus believed that he didn't take his job quite as seriously as they did. But his skills, or so Fey had heard from the novices, were almost like that of a prodigy, regardless of what many thought. It was almost a shame that he was stuck guarding the school, rather than being deployed where he would have the opportunity to protect moroi where it was most needed.

Moments later, Fubuki sat across from the moroi boy, placing his cup of tea on the surface of the desk in front of him. Fey peered up at Fubuki, giving off a slight smile as he reached out and wrapped his fingers delicately around the warm cup's surface. It was a pretty cup, and the warmth radiating from it felt nice against his cool fingers.

"It's still rather hot, so just give it a few minutes," Fubuki suggested. His hazel eyes watched him steadily, and Fey noticed as they developed a serious tint within their depths. "I know that our appointment isn't until later on this afternoon, but if you'd like, we can talk now? Did you have that same dream again? Is that why you can't sleep?"

Fey confided in Fubuki, what with him being his therapist and all. But he didn't trust him to the same extent that he did Tenma. He understood that as a therapist, any information that he shared with Fubuki was to be kept between just the two of them. But all the while, no matter how kind a person he understood Fubuki was, Fey couldn't help but feel that their conversations were artificial. It was Fubuki's job to help Fey feel better. Nothing more.

He'd shared vague explanations of his past with Fubuki, but had only ever gone into detail about it with Tenma. He'd only ever told Tenma about who he truly was – that being the Lost Prince's missing son.

That was why he hesitated with a reply, lowering his head so that he could peer into his lap. "Kind of..." he spoke quietly, "This time... it was different. More like a nightmare..."

"A different dream?" Fubuki's voice remained soothing, but his eyes narrowed and he pressed his lips together in a sort of frown, "What was this nightmare about, Fey?"

The greenette was incredibly reluctant to share any details about it. How could he tell another moroi that he'd had a dream where he'd been tempted to turn into a strigoi? For revenge, no less? It was too humiliating. Fey didn't know if it was a therapist thing, but he could remember Fubuki once saying that dreams often communicated buried fears and desires. He would grow concerned for him, when really, Fey knew deep down that he wouldn't ever consider such a thing. Why worry anyone when it wasn't necessary?

It was all induced by spirit anyway. Spirit was messing his thoughts up, and in turn his dreams. It had to be that.

Though being a dreadful liar, Fey could only shrug in response.

"Fey," Fubuki gently pressed, "You can tell me anything. I'm not here to judge you."

Fey bit his lip, still refusing to raise his head. He fiddled with his fingers in his lap, furrowing his eyebrows worriedly as he continued to nibble at his bottom lip. Taking a shaky breath, he just barely managed to murmur, "I... I was being attacked by a strigoi."

It _technically _wasn't a lie.

"A strigoi?" Fubuki frowned further, "You wandered a lot on your own before being brought here, but you never once encountered a strigoi. At least, that's what you told me. If that's the case, are you afraid of them? Are you afraid of encountering a strigoi? Fear of the unknown is more than natural."

Fey shook his head, "I don't know..."

That wasn't exactly a lie either. Not ever seeing one had made him more than curious. It had also left a lot to his imagination, and he wondered whether or not that was for better or worse.

The younger forced a laugh, trying to appear alright. He'd rather force a smile and fool who he could. Getting emotional with others wasn't his forte. He preferred to keep his emotions to himself. He'd had no other choice growing up, so by this point, it was an incredibly difficult habit to break."Either way, I wouldn't look into it all too much. I think the only reason I had it was because spirit's messing me up."

As Fubuki replied to him, Fey lifted his cup from the table, gazing into the orange tinged tea within before taking a cautious sip. "Your spirit abilities are very incredible, Fey. They may take a toll on your mind, but that doesn't make you 'messed up.'" He paused, tilting his head to the side. "Why? Is that what you think? Do you dislike the fact that you specialized in spirit?"

"Hmm," Fey finally glanced up at the other, shrugging his shoulders honestly as the fake smile that'd been plastered on his face gradually faded at the various questions thrown at him. "I wouldn't ever trade spirit for anything. Sure, there are a few cons, but I'd feel so lost without it, I think." He tried to communicate his complicated feelings, though it was difficult. He'd once tried taking medication to help him with the side effects, but it had completely cut him off from his magic. It had reduced spirit's side-effects, but in turn, it had made him feel so lost and miserable. He couldn't imagine being cut off from spirit completely or not having it at all. He scrunched his nose up in thought, "But I do think that spirit definitely warps my thinking at ti-"

"I'm in no way accusing you, but are you sure that you're not simply placing the blame on spirit for thoughts that you don't want to admit are your own?" Fubuki's tone was tentative, as he didn't wish to upset the greenette. But he needed to ask. He was there to help Fey understand himself as well as his feelings, after all. But perhaps it would have been wiser to ask him such a thing after a dose of lunar healing: when his emotional state was more stable.

Fubuki feared that maybe he'd stirred a flare of anger within the other, but realized that instead, Fey grew rigid where he sat, his face paling. Was he succumbing to depression instead? That was another reaction that spirit was capable of intensifying. He'd come to realize after monitoring Fey for these past few years that he was most prone to either verbalized irritation or a dark depression when it came to spirit disturbances.

Fey's breath hitched in his chest at the painful reminder. Apart of him was insulted by the general comment, but he couldn't help but wonder if maybe it held some form of truth with his nightmare. Would he really go so far? Was it really revenge he truly wanted? Was he denying the truth by telling himself that spirit must have been it's cause?

The spirit user opened his mouth to protest, but that was when it hit him.

Every emotion within him evaporated as if it hadn't even mattered in the first place, and he perked up in his seat. Fubuki must have noticed the change in him and how his minty eyes widened without warning. His lips, which had been pressed tightly together, relaxed and were even slightly parted – as if he was enchanted by something that nobody else could see.

"Fey?"

The moroi boy didn't even process the fact that his name had been called, instead concentrating on the wondrous sense of warmth that had engulfed him. Spirit. It was spirit use that he could feel, meaning that lunar empowerment was in effect and that Fey's spirit was drawing in lunar energy from the moon.

He pushed his tea cup away from him, standing from where he'd been sitting. Slowly, a smile – a genuine one – crept over his lips before he found himself sharing an unwavering gaze with Fubuki. "I need to go." The moon must have risen early, and it felt as if it was calling out to him. It was a sensation that he couldn't possibly ever ignore.

Fubuki had seen that look wash over him plenty of times, and the crinkles of worry faded from his face as understanding replaced his facial features. "You need to perform a lunar healing? Of course. We can carry on with this conversation later." He smiled, watching as Fey eagerly left his spacious office after giving him a brighter look than previous to his spirit's activation.

The greenette broke into an excited run, a calm washing over him as spirit elevated any darker thoughts and feelings that clouded his mind. They would linger, however, until he healed himself of them completely. Neglecting to do so could be dangerous, otherwise.

He inhaled with a sweet sigh as he felt the outside air hit his face when he emerged outside into the courtyard. It was still light out, but Fey could feel that the temperature had begun to drop as the sun continued to sink through the pale blue sky. He would've hugged his arms around himself in an attempt to warm up at the sudden drop, but he searched the clear skies for the moon that he knew was just barely visible in the sky that was still ruled by the sun – far too captivated to care for something as simple as the colder air around him.

Fey gazed up into the faded figure that was the moon. It was too full to be a last quarter moon just yet, but it had shifted from it's waning gibbous phase – instead resting somewhere in-between. It's light was weak in the sun's rays, and Fey's abilities wouldn't work as well as they would have if he were bathed in it's concentrated, silver light while shrouded by a dark, star filled sky. But this would do for now.

He made his way over to the fountain that stood in the center of the open space, sitting himself down on it's edge. An elegant statue of St. Vladimir, the founder of their school, and his guardian, Anna, decorated the fountain, and water was meant to fall from their cupped hands. But the fountain had been turned off for the winter season and it seemed so empty as Fey glanced down into it. Nothing but a few dead leaves rested at it's stone-cold bottom.

He stared back up into the sky, letting his eyes flutter shut as he rested his palms along the edges of the fountain where he sat. His fingers curled around them, creating a steady grip around it. He tried to concentrate on the moonlight that just barely escaped from being washed out by the sunlight completely, but it was difficult for him to grasp onto his magic when it was so weak. He opened himself up to his spirit as he felt it gradually burn brighter within him, it's warmth embracing him three times more intensely than it ever did while continuously keeping a stable connection open between both itself and the moon.

The healing process was far slower than usual, and because his healing magic was far less potent than it should've been, he would need to heal himself a second time. But this would satisfy him until classes were finished, at least.

He wasn't quite sure whether it was the tea Fubuki had given him before, or whether it was because his mind had finally been eased of the darkness that had been growing within him since his last healing: but as the ecstatic glow that his magic created within him began to wane, Fey's eyes fluttered tiredly. It seemed his lack of sleep was catching up to his serene form, and he couldn't help but stifle a yawn.

He glanced around the courtyard with eyes that were blurred with sleep-deprivation, thinking to himself that nobody was around. It wouldn't hurt anyone if he simply closed his eyes for just a few moments...

Suppressing a second yawn, the boy carefully pulled his legs up along the fountain walls, curling up onto it's surface and placing a hand underneath his head in an attempt to shelter it from the hard, cold stone underneath him.

Finally, he reluctantly closed his eyes, promising that it wouldn't last any longer than a few minutes. After a prolonged and weak healing session, perhaps he'd used more spirit than intended and it'd exhausted him. He doubted that was the case, but his thoughts were far too sluggish for him to argue with himself, or debate it. Instead, he let the realm of sleep swallow him up, only regretting it when he fell into a dream. Not the nightmare from before, but a dream that left him feeling both sickly yet somehow fond of it each and every night he experienced it.

The familiar voice called out to him like it always did, and he swore he could feel his papa's warm hand sweeping through his bangs. At least until he opened his eyes to stare up into the man's face to realize that papa really was there – sitting with him at his bedside in his old bedroom. Robin lay next to him, tucked into Fey's snug bedsheets.

His papa smiled down at him, a sad look swimming in those minty eyes that matched his own, the same words from each and every other night escaping from his parted lips.

_'Goodnight, sweet Fayah.'_

* * *

**I'm so sorry if the lack of honorifics is really irritating. In the VA books, St. Vladimir's is located in Montana, so I guess I thought it'd be best for me to leave them out. A lot of characters also call each other by their given names, but some reason I've made Shindou, Kirino and Ibuki exceptions? I don't even know. xD Please bear with me. **

**Thanks a bunch for reading! **


	2. Smoke & Mirrors

**I forgot to mention last chapter that I've never read the Blood Lines series before, just the original Vampire Academy series. Considering this story takes place three years ahead of Last Sacrifice, Blood Lines would be pretty important to the history of my story, but the series isn't finished yet anyway. So of course there's gonne be some inconsistencies no matter what (if Adrian dies in the end of the Blood Lines series that would mess up this entire story, for example). So asides from a few minor things (like who Adrian is dating), I think it's best to leave Blood Lines out of this story, regardless of it's timeline. So yeah. Sorry if there's plot holes regarding events that happen in Blood Lines.**

** And there's just one other thing that I wanted to say in regards to Fey: I personally don't take Fey as the type of character who swears very often, if at all. However, I have written scenes where Fey is seen saying some pretty foul language, and this is only because I wanted to throw in an indication to the readers of when spirit darkness may be taking it's toll on him. Regularly, Fey wouldn't talk that way, but I thought it would be an interesting way for me to drop hints that he may not fully be himself.**

**Sorry if this irritates anybody. **

** Umm, and yeah! Thanks to everybody who reads! Enjoy!**

** Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Academy, nor Inazuma Eleven. I only wish I did.**

**Warning: T for Strong Language, Violence, Blood & Gore, and Torture . Also Trigger Warnings for later.**

**Pairing: Eventual SaruFey. I tried to leave other pairings (such as Fey x Tenma & Tsurugi x Tenma) open for the readers to interpret how they'd like.**

* * *

**Chapter Two – Smoke & Mirrors**

* * *

_6 years previous - Denver, Colorado – Badica Manor – Age: 11_

* * *

The boy fought against angry tears and his lips pressed together tightly in a worsening pout. He leaned against the wall, finding it difficult not to reveal his presence from behind it just to yell and hopefully make the two adults a few feet away from him cease their insults. But he knew all too well that they housed no such consideration, regardless.

The two raved about the crowning of a new Badica Prince – about some Anthony something or other.

But that couldn't be right...

He began to chew at his bottom lip, grasping more tightly at Robin, whom he hugged to his chest in his futile effort not to cry. He couldn't take their words any longer. A crinkle appearing in his brow, Fey stepped from around the corner in which he hid behind, protesting in what he hoped was his most courageous voice. "You can't let them make somebody else the new Prince Badica!" he furrowed his eyebrows almost sadly, realizing that he was pleading more so than defending his absent papa, "_Papa's_ Prince Badica!"

The woman, Marcella, who'd been speaking with one of her stuck-up royal friends, it seemed, spun around. She looked down at the small boy, a smirk replacing the shock she'd felt at the interruption. A mocking laugh filled the room as she brushed a hand through her perfectly styled hair. "Aww, but dear child, your father's as good as dead," she spoke almost musically, and her friend seemed just as amused as she did, "Now go on back to your room. Political matters aren't meant for children. Especially those who are still in denial about their family."

Fey shook his head desperately, unable to accept that his papa was dead. He'd just left, right? He'd come back. He had to! "Papa's not dead! You don't know anything! Even though you're supposed to be his sister, you don't even care that papa's gone!"

"Fine, fine. _Missing_, then. He's not coming back, either way. He won't miss his title, just as he doesn't miss you," Marcella waved her hand at him, gesturing for his dismissal, "Now what did I command of you? Leave us!"

The words stung. Maybe because they were truthful. Papa had left and still hadn't come back for him. Maybe he really did hate him... Everybody else seemed to.

Marcella's royal friend eyed Fey for a few moments before linking her arm with Marcella's, whispering into her ear worriedly, "Should you really talk to him like that?" Fey gazed up at her at that, shocked that she was possibly defending him. Well, until his heart sank at what she said next, that is. "Didn't you say he has some sort of evil magic? What if he uses it on us?"

"...Well, yes," Marcella swallowed thickly, eyeing Fey up and down and crossing her arms over her chest as if she might truly be somewhat afraid of him. "Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if he was half-Strigoi somehow."

Fey hugged his arms around Robin more fiercely, feeling that if he didn't, he'd have nothing to keep him from falling apart. His heart ached at the memories of the unexplainable things he'd done. He'd never meant to hurt anybody... The looks of utmost shock and terror on people's faces and the pained screams that came from them was what really hurt him the most. He scared people. Maybe that was why papa had left him, even...

"I'm sorry!" Fey cried, the tears he'd fought so hard against gushing down his face, "I didn't mean to ever hurt anyone! I really didn't!"

"I don't want to hear it!" Marcella snapped, a dark look overcoming her. She would've had Fey out of her house long ago if it weren't for her fear of having him bewitch her if she even managed to propose such a thing. "Stop crying and go back to your room, for heaven's sakes!"

"Nobody ever believes me..." Fey buried his face into the top of Robin's head, sobbing softly into it, "Nobody ever listens. I hate it."

A frustrated sigh came from Marcella's lips, though she refused to budge even an inch. Luckily for her, a maid who was carrying a laundry basket full of clean clothes wandered by, preparing to take them each upstairs and store them away to their corresponding rooms. Marcella called her over impatiently, "Natsumi! Can you escort Fayah to his room, please?"

The auburn haired woman, Natsumi, froze instantly at the call of her name, processing her mistress' request before nodding her head and placing her basket full of clothes against the nearest wall. She knelt down next to Fey, cocking her head as she gently went to touch his shoulder.

Fey jumped at the unexpected contact, lifting his head from Robin and meeting her amber coloured orbs with misty eyes. His shoulder trembled underneath her touch, but his sobs faded into whimpers as he took in her warm smile. The maid, Natsumi was one of the only people in the entire house who ever actually showed him any form of kindness. She was sort of the closest person he'd ever had to a mother. Not that he'd ever known what that was like. She was nice to him, but she was always far too busy to ever play with him or ease him of his loneliness.

Even so, he felt a bit better at seeing her. He swallowed thickly, wiping at his eyes with the back of his sleeve before explaining himself shakily. "I didn't mean to ever hurt anybody... I honestly didn't. If I could take it all back, I would... but..." he trailed off, frowning sadly at his own words.

Natsumi's smile grew more reassuring as she offered her hand out to him, standing up from where she knelt down, "I know, Fey. I know. We can talk all about it upstairs, okay? Do you wanna play? How about I play a game with you?"

Natsumi had never been able to play a game with him before. The offer excited him, but then he suddenly remembered that he still needed to convince Marcella that they couldn't reassign a new prince! "I'd love to, but first I need to help papa!"

Marcella rolled her eyes. "We already told you! He isn't coming back, and I can hardly blame him!"

"Lady Marcella, he's a child! Is it really appropriate for you to speak to him like that!?" Natsumi squeezed at Fey's hand in an attempt to comfort him through the raised voices, understanding that this would most likely cost her her job, but unwilling to stand by as Marcella bullied an eleven year old about his missing father.

Marcella scowled, shooting daggers as her friend gasped next to her at the maid's discourtesy. "If you wish to speak of incomprehensible speech, I demand that you reanalyze your own! Is that any way for a lowly maid, such as yourself, to speak to a royal!? Prince Badica's sister and Queen Tatiana's third cousin, no less. Unforgivable!"

Fey's eyes fluttered between the two woman as they continued to argue, and he held Robin against him with a single hand as he continued to grasp onto Natsumi's with his other. He squeezed back in return to her, his tears beginning to burn at his eyes yet again at their raised tones and hurtful words. They were arguing because of him. This was all his fault.

He hated himself for it.

It was when he screwed his eyes shut at all of the emotional turmoil that stirred within him that he felt it.

His eyes snapped open as his heart skipped a beat at the warmth that washed over him. Like the other times, he could feel it as his evil magic surfaced, seeping from his tingling fingertips so that it may corrupt those around him. He felt it as the darker, muddled feelings that had been pent up within him seeped from his body and planted themselves within Natsumi at his mere touch.

"Oh no!" he wept, immediately struggling to escape Natsumi's grip. She cut herself off, withdrawing from the heated argument with Marcella and blinking down at the boy in confusion as he pried his hand away from her's, tears brimming in those sad eyes. "Fey?" she called his name, concerned as he stepped away from her, pressing himself against the wall as if he was doing all he could to keep his distance from everybody else within the room.

"Fe-" the next call of his name came to an abrupt stop as she suddenly brought a hand to her head, whimpering.

Marcella's anger died instantly, instead turning into panic as she spoke to Fey in a small, dark voice, "Oh god, you did it again..." She seemed to be in disbelief before she pushed her friend towards the next room, gesturing for her to leave as she broke out into a scream, "You used your magic on her, didn't you!? Stop! Turn her back to normal! Oh god!"

Fey watched in horror as Natsumi hugged her hands around her body in a vice-grip, a scream tearing it's way through her throat before she dropped to her knees. Like the others, she'd gone mad. Fey had watched time and time again as people broke down before him, screaming and writhing, and sometimes even acting violently towards those around them. Some had even harmed themselves. Or worse.

Fey shook his head, unable to accept the sight before him. Not this time. Not Natsumi. "Stop!" he begged, "Please stop!" But he'd never known HOW to stop whatever it was he could do. It wasn't like any moroi ability he, nor anybody else, had ever heard of. He was too different.

He'd pleaded for Marcella to send him to school, where maybe he could learn about his abilities, but she had forbid it – afraid to expose the outside world to such a dangerous boy.

"Stop it!" Marcella screeched, tears streaming down her face now. "Or do you plan to kill her like you did the last one!?"

Fey choked on tears, the sheer force of them blinding him from the sight of Natsumi deteriorating only a few feet ahead of him. He shook his head back and fourth slowly, his fingers digging into Robin's fur. What did he have to do to make it all stop? He'd do anything.

"What's going on in here!?"

Fey recognized the voice of Marcella's guardian, but it sounded so distant when all he could concentrate on were the sounds that came from Natsumi. He continued to chant for whatever he had done to just go away as Marcella's husband joined them next and the two frantically spoke in the background.

"Fuck! He's gone and done it again, hasn't he!?"

"We have to do something about this! He's out of control!"

"Do something about it? What!? And let him get mad at us so we can be next!?"

"Oh god, I just don't know anymore... For now, please, you and the guardian help me with Natsumi! We need to get her to the hospital!"

Before he'd even realized it, the greenette bolted upstairs, blinded by tears but far too upset to care. He tripped while running, hitting the edges of the steps with a harsh thud. His knees and ribs ached at the impact, but nothing could compare to the agony within him. He was quick to pick himself up, running all the way into his room and than slamming the door shut.

Marcella and her husband were right.

This needed to stop.

He couldn't allow himself to hurt people anymore... Especially Natsumi. Why her? She'd been the only person to show him kindness since his father had left.

"Papa," Fey managed to thickly splutter, unknowing of what he even intended by calling out for his dad. He didn't deserve to have anybody arrive to comfort him. If anything, his papa was probably just as scared of him as everybody else, hence why he wasn't even around anymore. "Papa!"

And then it hit him.

Fey gasped, ceasing his unwanted tears. He sniffled, wide eyes wandering over to where papa's vintage mirror sat in the corner of his room. Moonheart mirror. Fey stared at it, recalling what his papa had told him. Papa wasn't there to help him, but he'd left the mirror behind in his wake. He'd said it would protect him. Did that include protecting his heart as well? Could the mirror make everything he'd done just go away?

Hopeful, Fey roughly wiped at his eyes and than quickly made his way over to the mirror. He froze before it, puffy eyes plunging into it's reflective surface. The glass was so clear that it almost seemed to glow. There was definitely something magical about it. Though despite both that, and his papa's words, not once had it ever done anything to help him. Fey often disregarded it because of this, wondering if his papa had simply lied to him in order to ease his own guilt. But if there was any chance that the magical mirror could save Natsumi, than he was willing to try.

"Moonheart," Fey continued to clear away his tears in front of the mirror, peering into it almost timidly, "That's your name right? Please... Help me. Papa said that you would. And I really need you to."

When the mirror didn't respond in the slightest, Fey grew more desperate. "Please! All I want you to do is return Mrs. Natsumi to normal! I did something awful to her, and I don't understand how to fix it!" he cried, "Please! Even if you just showed me how to do it, I'll do it myself!"

Nothing.

"Are you broken or something?"

Still nothing.

Fey began to shake now, betrayal seeping into his very veins. He'd been upset about it since it had happened, but as he stared into the mirror with upset orbs, for the very first time, the fact that his father had betrayed him struck him like a lightning fast slap to the face. Not only had he left him, but he'd left him with a so-called magical mirror that would protect him. Though that was clearly the biggest pile of bullshit Fey had ever heard.

All that Asurei Badica had left behind for his son were a collection of lies: an illusion that some stupid mirror would protect him when he wasn't able to do so himself.

"Did you leave me behind with your crappy story so that you wouldn't need to feel guilty about me being scared!?" Fey threw Robin across the room, grasping the mirror at it's sides and shaking it slightly, "Were you scared of me too!?"

The tears returned to his heated eyes, and his eyebrows knitted together in resentment as he finally let the frustration he'd felt all these past few years consume him, overpowering the denial that his father might someday return to him.

"No! Maybe I don't want you to! I don't want you to ever come back! You just up and leave, and now you're gonna let Natsumi die!?" he swallowed thickly, his lips trembling as he raised his voice in a tearful outburst, "I hate you! I don't want your pity gift! I don't want it!"

With all the force an eleven year old moroi could muster, Fey whipped the mirror to the wooden tiled floor. It hit the ground hard, and when a deafening smash pierced his ears and glass shards exploded across the floorboards, Fey thought that maybe he'd regret what he'd done.

But the regret never came.

* * *

_Present - St. Vladimir's Academy, Montana - Age: 16 - Late October_

* * *

"Fey!"

The boy stirred, though just barely as his eyes began to flutter faintly.

"Fey! Wake up!"

"Wha-?" the greenette's groggy voice followed as he slowly came to, shifting against the surface of the fountain that felt a lot colder than it had when he'd first curled up upon it. His vision searched the area fuzzily at first, taking in the twinkling stars overhead and the brightly glowing silver moon. It was dark out now? How long had he slept? He'd only meant to rest his eyes for but a moment.

"Fey, are you okay? You didn't pass out, did you?" concern leaked from the voice that'd been calling him – the only voice that could instantly send a fondness flowing through him. "I was so worried! Let's get you inside before you catch a cold!"

Fey blinked up at the dhampir boy who gazed down at him with silver eyes that swam with a significant amount of worry. But the brunette managed a small smile, though his eyebrows remained knitted together, as he watched Fey tenderly rub the sleep from his eyes and slowly sit up. He dangled his legs over the fountain's edge, feeling a tad bit disoriented.

"Tenma," Fey smiled, brightened not only because of his purified mind nor the glow caused by spirit at the open link between both himself and the moon, but because he'd awoken to the voice of the only person he had ever learned to unconditionally love. "I'm perfectly fine, so please don't look at me like that. I was just tired after having tea with Fubuki." He paused, taking in the darkened courtyard. The sky was bathed in ebony and the courtyard around them was illuminated in both moonlight and incandescence. One such incandescent lamp lay at the base of St. Vladimir's statue, casting an eerie shadow against both his and Anna's forms. "What time is it?"

He couldn't help but wonder how long he'd been out. He'd slept for the entire setting of the sun, at least.

Tenma offered a hand out to him, which Fey gladly accepted as he let the brunette help lift him to his feet.

The greenette sent his arms skyward, lacing the fingers of each hand together in a stretch as his eyes were forced shut and an audible moan escaped him. As he blinked those minty orbs back open, he felt the need to close them once again at the dizziness that hit him from suddenly standing up. But it passed after a few more seconds, fading just as quickly as it had struck him.

"It's almost time for class," the dhampir filled him in, tilting his head to the side, "Are you positive you're okay?"

"Yup, yup," Fey stretched again, "Just waking up."

The worried crease left his forehead, but Tenma began to toss more questions his way, his tone fonder than the one previous, "Have you eaten yet?" When Fey merely shook his head at that, cradling his arms behind his head tiredly, Tenma pouted in disapproval. "Have you healed yet?"

"Tenma," Fey couldn't hold back his laughter, grinning at the other, "You sound like a nanny or something. It really doesn't suit you."

The tanned dhampir blushed, "I-I don't! I'm not trying to nag, I just-"

He trailed off, seeming a bit embarrassed, and Fey couldn't help but eye him warmly. "I already healed a little bit, but I'd like to do it again sometime before the moon goes away. You can join me, if you'd like? I'll probably try for it at lunch. Or maybe even after classes are finished. And as for food, I'll go right now."

Tenma's facial features lit up in response, and he nodded eagerly. It seemed his earlier embarrassment was quickly forgotten, which Fey wasn't all too surprised of considering he knew that Tenma always recovered from such things rather quickly. "I can join you after class, if that's okay! As for lunch, I was hoping to ask you whether or not you wanted to join me and Kyousuke?" He quickly added after pausing for a moment, "Cause his older brother's coming to visit him today, and apparently he wants to meet me during our lunch break." The sheepishness returned as he rubbed at the back of his head, admitting quietly,"I'm a bit nervous."

If not for his recent healing, the moroi may have experienced an intense pang of jealousy. But his happiness subdued it right then. He understood how much this meant to Tenma, and he was honestly so very proud for him.

Having the eldest son of the Tsurugi family – a distant relative of one of the royal families – wish to meet him must have meant that they'd accepted the fact that Tenma may one day serve Kyousuke as his guardian. At least, that was what Tenma strove towards, and what Kyousuke Tsurugi desired as well.

Of course, that meant that Tenma could never become his own guardian, but Fey wasn't willing to share his disappointment with the novice. He wanted nothing more than for Tenma to achieve his goal. That alone may not free him of loneliness, but he could at least be happy for Tenma. If he couldn't stay by his only friend's side, than Fey wanted nothing more than for Tenma to be happy. That was all that mattered anymore.

Besides, how could he hold Tenma back from his life-long goal? Fey understood better than anybody that Tenma would drop his dream and become his guardian without a second thought if he asked him of it. Being the son of the late Prince Badica, Fey could probably get away with it, even. He wouldn't need to fear the lottery system. But he couldn't do that...

He couldn't take advantage of Tenma's kindness, nor make a request for guardianship behind his back.

Tenma may have been the one to save him from his loneliness back in their first year of high school, but that was exactly why he just didn't have the heart to tell Tenma how he truly felt: that he wanted Tenma to be _his _guardian more than anything.

"Tenma, that's amazing!" Fey encouraged, "I'd love to meet him with you, so count me in. But only if you're sure my being there won't make things harder for you." He hated the thought of being a burden somehow, especially when this moment meant oh so much to the brunette. But what if Kyousuke's brother didn't like him for some reason or another and he made things difficult for Tenma? Or what if he somehow figured out that he was a spirit user and the spotlight was redirected from Tenma to him? Or what if -

_'No, you can't think like that, Fey,' _he tried to shake his head free of his own thoughts. But growing up the way he had, he couldn't help but feel as if he was an unlikable person. People always found reasons to dislike him. _'No. Things are different since coming here. This school has been a fresh start for me, and nobody has ever given me an indication that they hate me. Not one person. Things are different from back then.' _

"Of course it's fine, Fey!" Tenma balled his fists excitedly as the two began to walk, heading towards the area where Fey could draw blood from one of the feeders. "How would you ever make anything difficult for me?" His arms were quick to fall back to his sides as he gave Fey an alarmed look and exclaimed suddenly, "Oh, unless you mean it might cause trouble for _you_!? Do you think Kyousuke's brother would recognize you? Did he ever meet you when you were a Badica?"

Fey shook his head from side to side, "I didn't ever meet anybody from the Tsurugi family."

"Then it's settled?" Tenma gave him a hopeful glance.

Fey smiled modestly, but it was impossible to deny that he beamed brightly on the inside at the unmistakable sense of wanting that Tenma housed for him. Even after the years they'd spent together throughout high school, Fey couldn't bring himself to grow used to it, and he really didn't mind. If it meant that he could feel overwhelmingly happy at even the simple things, than how could he bring himself to mind?

"I wouldn't miss it for anything."

After exchanging a few more excited words on the subject, the two found themselves already having cut through the cafeteria and only steps away from the entrance of the feeding room, what with them being adjacent to one another. It wasn't all too busy considering Fey had slept through the breakfast rush. Only a few stragglers remained, as class was to begin in only a few minutes or so.

"Ugh, I'm probably gonna be late," Fey grinned sheepishly, placing his hands on his hips as he took his spot in the short line up. "Tenma, you go ahead and get to class. Aren't you in the guardian's gym first period? That's a fair distance from here."

Tenma shrugged, "Yeah, I have Guardian Combat Techniques with Fudou, and he's normally pretty strict. I'd hate to upset him right before the exam..." He laughed nervously at the thought, but was quick to recover as he gave Fey a reassuring smile, "But a Guardian has to be brave, right? I can handle Fudou if I'm gonna be fighting strigoi someday. So if you want me to stay, I'd be more than happy to."

The offer was a charming one, but Fey shook his head, "Nah, unless watching me feed is something you find exciting, than I wouldn't recommend annoying the super scary guardian mentor for it. The field exam will be hard enough without a teacher holding a grudge against you. Twenty-four hours a day and six days a week is going to be exhausting."

Speaking of exhausting, the mere thought of sharing that much time with a guardian who wouldn't be Tenma for six whole weeks – meaning for 36 days and a whooping 864 hours - was socially and mentally taxing for him all on it's own. What were the chances that Tenma would be assigned to him for the exam? Fey was nervous for it in his own way.

"Hmmm," Tenma's silver eyes flickered to the side in thought, "I know that it will be tough, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous about it, but apart of me is also really looking forward to it! It's exciting to know that I'm almost a full-fledged guardian."

"I should've known that'd be your answer," Fey grinned. Tenma had always been a "cup's half-full" kinda guy, whether the challenges ahead were tough or nerve rattling. He always worked hard and tried his best, keeping positive the majority of the way.

Before Tenma had the chance to respond, the woman who stood at the entrance with a clipboard called on Fey, raising an eyebrow at his lateness. She said nothing of it, however, figuring that she couldn't exactly turn him down and let him go hungry even if he may have deserved it due to his own lateness. Fey believed she was much more thoughtful than she probably appeared.

He redirected his attention from Tenma to his spot in line, realizing that he was next up. His eyes flickered from the woman at the entrance of the feeding room and then back to Tenma as he folded his arms behind his back, lacing his fingers together. Leaning forward slightly, he smiled, "I guess this is where we go our separate ways. I'll meet you in the caf at lunch?" He assumed that's where Tenma was planning to meet the Tsurugi brothers.

"Yeah! That's where Kyousuke said he'd be once he met up with his brother."

With that, Tenma cheerfully voiced his goodbyes, hurrying off in the direction that was the quickest route to the guardian's gym. Fey hoped that he'd make it in time, watching his figure until he disappeared from the cafeteria. The last thing he wanted was for Tenma to get into trouble over something so avoidable. He deserved a perfect record, and was confident that Tenma would earn himself such marks when he passed both the field exam as well as the novice's final exam at the end of the school year. With high grades, Tenma would have a line-up of moroi seeking his guardianship. His future would be a successful one, and he could hopefully wind up with whichever moroi he pleased. That being the Tsurugi family, of course. With them being close relatives of one of the royal family's – Fey wasn't sure of the details – the lottery system would hardly pose a threat.

"This way, please."

With his absence, Fey's attention drifted from where he had last seen Tenma to where the greeter continued to stand, gesturing for him to follow her instructions. She guided him to one of the many cubicles that made up the space of the feeder area, and he smiled pleasantly at the feeder woman who sat within a comfortable appearing chair. She returned the polite look as the greeter left them, a glazed look clouding her eyes that advised Fey that she was still bathing in the afterglow of the drug-like endorphins contained within a vampire's saliva. She would most likely reach her limit soon.

"Fey," she reached out to touch his hand as he sat down in the chair next to hers, "I was wondering if I'd see you today."

Fey merely smiled slightly wider, feeling a bit bad that he couldn't remember her name when she always tended to recognize him, no matter how 'high' she seemed.

"I can't believe we're already nearing the end of October," she began, her tone mellowed out by the endorphins she'd already taken in, though remaining somewhat warm all the same. Fey couldn't help but think that this woman must have been reminded of a loved one when she looked at him. A son, perhaps? She'd found something about him that was familiar to her somehow. "Are you looking forward to the holidays? Do you have any plans with your family?"

He felt a faint twist in his stomach at the mentioning of family, but managed to keep up his lighthearted facade. He may have been horrid at lying, but masking his emotions when he was troubled had become natural to him. "The holidays still feel so far away," Fey admitted with a light laugh, "But I'm looking forward to Halloween! Tenma and I have plans!"

The lady beamed, "That's lovely. I'm thrilled for you." She paused, having difficulty finding her train of thought with her mind as foggy as it was. Fey was astonished that she'd managed to prolong their conversation for as long as she had. Normally a feeder would've shrugged small talk aside, giving into the temptation of receiving their next fix. "But you be sure to come see me before you leave campus over the winter break."

She had only been transferred to their school as a voluntary feeder that year, so she hadn't caught on to the fact that Fey remained on campus not only during holiday vacations, but also during the summer break.

"Your being here eases my heart."

Fey smiled, genuinely flattered at the compliment. That is, until his face fell at what followed.

She squeezed at his hand, her words sending waves of nausea through him. "You know, this might sound really silly. But did you know that I used to be a maid? Funny to picture, I know. It was almost twenty years ago that I served Prince Badica and his mistress at their estate. It's a real shame what happened to his wife, and than for him to go missing not even eight years later. Nearly four years ago, can you believe that his only son went missing as well? Bless each of their souls." She paused, seeming to take a breath, "But you know, whenever I look at you, I can't help but notice that you have my old master's eyes. The resemblance is truly uncanny."

This woman...

No way.

The shock needed to pass before releasing it's shackles of paralysis on the bitterness that was inevitable from surfacing within him like boiling water. He understood that she meant no harm. She didn't even know that she was speaking to the Prince's "missing" son, though even with such ignorance -

She spoke of how Prince Badica's disappearance was a horrible tragedy, but she didn't even know the truth. Not like he did. His father had coldly abandoned him.; left of his own accord.

However, one portion of her comment that had struck him with an unfamiliar emotion that appeared not to be anger, was the fact that she'd apparently known his mother... He'd never met anybody who'd known her, and all his dad had really said was that his mother had passed away, but that she was always watching over him from heaven.

As inclined as he was to learn what he could about his mother from somebody who'd actually known her when she was alive, Fey shot down the thoughts. Why ask questions that would do nothing but pain him? He didn't need to learn anything about a woman who probably hated him as much as his father had...

"Is that so..." Fey murmured, trying his utmost to keep a poker face. His poisonous thoughts made that impossible, however. "You know, you shouldn't talk about things you know nothing about." His hand went cold underneath her palm, and he had to resist the urge to snatch it away from her.

His eyes narrowed dangerously as they seared into his lap, though he was quick to feel guilty when his ears processed the dark tone of his voice. It wasn't as if she'd known the truth... She hadn't said it to intentionally upset him... She didn't know the true face of his liar of a father.

"Uh..." he raised his head, the anger vanishing from his face as it was replaced by shame. "I'm sorry..." he sighed softly, pulling his hand away from her own as he directed a sheepish look at her. "It's no excuse, but I think that I may be getting snappy and impatient... I'm really late for class." Another _flawless _attempt at lying: a Fey Rune story.

She shook her head lightly, tilting it afterwards in a way that exposed the skin of her neck and made it more accessible to him. "No need for apologies, child. We all have a story we don't wish to share," she assured him with a dopey smile, her eagerness growing at what she knew was to come in only a few more moments. "It seems the Badica's are a sensitive topic to you, as well, and that's fine. I'm sure you have your reasons. But never mind all of that. Go ahead and drink, Fey."

His mind both preoccupied as well as boggled by the thoughts that he struggled to swallow, Fey reluctantly leaned forward and sank his fangs into the tender throat of the woman who now left him feeling conflicted.

* * *

Fey sighed, his stomach so queasy that he was surprised he'd been able to keep the blood down from breakfast at all. Classes up until lunch had simply blurred by, and he hadn't been capable of processing even a single word from even a single lecture – instead tuning in and out repeatedly.

How could he concentrate after he'd met a person from his father's past? He'd tried to run away from his past, but even here – the only place he'd ever been able to call home – he couldn't escape it. What was worse, she knew more about Fey's mother than even he did.

His family had forgotten about him; why was it such a crime for him to do the same? Why were there always constant reminders? His hunt for the mirror, he could cope with. That was by his own choice, and it wasn't as if he hoped to find it for his father's sake – but his own.

But this..

His emotions reigned over him, even without spirit's assistance.

The confusion was suffocating, and he wasn't sure how exactly to approach that particular feeder ever again. She was kind, which drew him in, but he didn't know if he'd be able to withstand anymore possible conversations about his parents. He preferred to avoid such things, as all they brought him was pain and a familiar bitterness that had remained within him since childhood.

By the time lunch came around, he wasn't even sure what aspect of the situation it was his thoughts were preoccupied with anymore. All he could make sense of was that his head hurt and he couldn't escape it. He didn't even understand exactly what it was he felt, just that he wanted to flee and avoid it. At least he was meeting up with Tenma at the caf, which would mend his heavy heart, if even a little bit. Regardless, the moroi's stomach continued to swirl with his various, intense emotions and skipping lunch had become an absolute definite.

Fey forced a smile at the sight of Tenma as he leaned against the buffet table and picked out various pieces of food to eat. He'd completed hours of his grueling novice-only classes, which without a doubt had left him beyond starving. It didn't help that dhampirs burned calories so much more quickly than humans did.

The moroi waved down the other excitedly, burying his own troubles inside where no one would notice them. "Tenma!" he called, minty eyes bright. He reached the brunette's side just as he'd topped off the rest of his plate with something that may or may not have been breaded fish. "What's up?"

"Hi, Fey!" Tenma greeted him with an amount of glee that mirrored his own, "Kyousuke and his brother, Yuuichi, are just in the feeding room. Have _you_ eaten yet?"

"Yeah, I just came from there," Fey said, his smile stiffening somewhat. Despite being a clumsy liar, Tenma simply gave Fey a look of approval and questioned him no further on the matter.

The two found themselves an empty table, sitting side by side and saving the opposite side for the two brothers who would soon be joining them. Tenma picked through his food delicately before deciding which it was he wished to eat first. "Thanks for coming here with me," Tenma spoke thoughtfully before taking the first bite of his food. "It means a lot to me."

The rush of warmth that caressed Fey's cheeks at that was already working to ease his mind of it's tormenting yet racing, unintelligible thoughts. The distress that plagued him was still present, and would probably remain so for quite some time, but the pain within him had dulled while he was lavished in Tenma's presence.

_'Why do I let myself get so upset over something so stupid? Why should it even matter if she doesn't know who I am? What am I afraid of? All I need is Tenma.' _

"Fey?" Tenma blinked at him, a furrow appearing in his eyebrows as he looked over the greenette's rose dusted cheeks and lips that were compressed in deep thought, "Are you okay?"

Fey nodded eagerly – almost too eagerly – as he was pulled away from his thoughts, his eyes widening slightly as his head snapped up in both surprise and a strong desire to keep Tenma from worrying about him. Before Fey could babble anything in his defense though, Tenma added sincerely, his utmost concern evident, "Do you need moonlight? If waiting until the school day is finished is too much, than I'll go along with you now, if that's what you need."

"What?" Fey shook his head with a laugh, raising his hands, "Don't be so silly, Tenma! Yuuichi Tsurugi's interested in meeting the one who's going to become his little brother's guardian, and you want to ditch him? Besides, I don't need it just yet. I actually feel perfectly okay." It wasn't a lie. Spirit hadn't seemed to bother him since he'd healed. At least not that he'd noticed. "I was just taken aback by your comment, I guess." He scratched at his cheek gingerly, embarrassed at the words that tumbled from his mouth. "It was really nice to hear, and I guess I didn't know how to properly convey my feelings in return. Being here for you means a lot to me, too."

By this point in their friendship, Fey didn't need words to know that Tenma liked having him around. He was past all of those insecurities with him. But regardless, it was still always a nice thing to hear.

Tenma gave him an affectionate smile before returning to his food. He began to poke a finger through the french fries that lay scattered on his plate, picking a single one from the pile. "Did you want some?" he offered, holding it out to Fey.

Blood may have been much more important to moroi, but human food was something they needed to eat at times as well. After drinking blood, however, moroi tended not to house large appetites. Normally Fey would merely nibble at only fruit or crackers after feeding.

Fey shrugged, realizing that his nausea had settled considerably since spending time with the dhampir like this. He wasn't overly hungry, even still, but one fry wouldn't hurt. He took the golden french fry from where it rested between Tenma's tanned fingers, tossing it into his mouth. How could he deny an offer from his most cherished friend?

After sharing a few more french fries, Tenma stiffened in his seat, his posture displaying his anxiousness as Fey followed his eyes and realized that the Tsurugi brothers were headed towards them. Fey balled his hands into fists at his chest in a sign of encouragement, "You'll be fine! Just be yourself and your charisma will instantly win him over!"

"D-don't worry! Things will work out somehow!" Tenma mimicked Fey's gesture, "I'm more excited than I am nervous anyway!"

Fey gave him two fierce nods, "That's the spirit!"

And that was when their sheer earnestness dissipated with the next blink of their eyes, astonishment seizing every one of their features as the Tsurugi brothers neared them. Their shock wasn't bred through disrespect of any sort, they just simply hadn't been prepared for this sort of outcome.

The younger of the brothers, Kyousuke, strove towards them. They hadn't seen his brother at first, but a crowd of both moroi and dhampir students moved back and fourth across the caf, meaning the other brother simply could've been blending with the crowd. It wasn't until they were only a few feet away that Tenma and Fey noticed the metallic silver and blue wheelchair being pushed forward by Kyousuke. An older boy who's appearance held a resemblance to Kyousuke sat upon it, a pleasant smile occupying his face.

"I-is Yuuichi injured?" Tenma directed a worried glimpse at Fey.

The moroi replied in a hushed tone, pressing his index finger to his lips, "I'm not sure. I've never heard anything about a member of the Tsurugi family being injured to this extent somehow." And Kyousuke had never mentioned this before either. "Unless they bring it up, we should keep our questions to ourselves. It's the considerate thing to do."

He didn't doubt Tenma's kindness, not for a second. But that was exactly why Tenma would've asked Yuuichi about the circumstances of his wheelchair.

Once both Kyousuke and his older brother found their way to the table, Tenma stood from his seat – trembling slightly in anticipation. He beamed brightly, a tad bit more stiff than he would've been if naturally greeting somebody. It made Fey smile. "Hello!" he began, eyes basically sparkling, "I'm Tenma Matsukaze! It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Yuuichi Tsurugi!"

Kyousuke raised an eyebrow as he pulled the chair across from Tenma away, making space for his brother's wheelchair. He didn't say anything, except that he gave Fey a look, as if to ask why Tenma was acting more eccentric than usual. Fey gave the other a sheepish smile as he sat down across from him.

Yuuichi's smile grew at the immediate attention, "I could tell. Kyousuke's told me so much about you." Warm brown eyes seemed to linger on the other for a few more moments, taking him in a bit more before his facial expression grew sympathetic, "You look so much like him. Your father, I mean."

There wasn't much more that could hold greater compliment, but even so, Fey automatically found his concerned orbs inspecting Tenma. It was Tenma's dream to become a guardian as renowned as his father, but it still must have caused him a heavy heart, regardless. Fey could only hope that it didn't sting too much.

"Thank you," the faintest shade of scarlet rose in Tenma's tanned skin as he scratched at the back of his head.

"Just act the way you always do," Kyousuke propped his elbow against the table, watching the apple that sat in his palm with golden eyes. His brother had a yogurt placed in front of him. Eating human food so lightly was typical of a moroi who had just had blood. "There's no need to be so formal."

"Don't be so rude, Kyousuke," Yuuichi gave his brother a look before redirecting his attention to Tenma, "But please, Tenma: if what Kyousuke says is true, you don't need to treat me like a royal. I'm happy to meet any friend of Kyousuke's, and I'd love to get to know you." He gave Tenma another smile before turning his head to stare at Fey. "And who are you? Are you also a friend of my brother's?"

Fey straightened in his seat at the attention, having not expected it. "Oh, I'm Fey Rune." Honestly, Fey saw both Kyousuke and himself as people who were linked through Tenma, and not quite as friends on their own. But when he thought deeply on the subject, he really found that he liked Kyousuke as a person. They'd known one another just as long, having been acquainted once Fey befriended Tenma. He felt comfortable with him. Maybe Fey didn't trust him anywhere near the same extent as he did Tenma, and Tenma and Tsurugi were a lot closer than he'd ever be with the dark haired moroi, but even so. Fey liked Kyousuke. He couldn't deny that. "Tenma and Kyousuke are my closest friends."

"Well, any friends of Kyousuke's are friends of mine," Yuuichi began, thoughtful eyes shifting back and fourth between the two, "I'm just so glad that Kyousuke's made such nice friends. This might embarrass him a bit, but I wanted to thank you. Thank you for being friends with Kyousuke."

Kyousuke avoided each and every pair of eyes at the table, obviously trying his hardest to keep anybody from noticing the dullest blush tainting his pale skin. "You make it sound like it's a shock I have friends at all," he mumbled into the palm of his hand as he rested his chin there, mocking offense rather than truly feeling any.

Tenma giggled, falling back into his seat, "It's nice that you both seem so close."

Fey watched as a brief display of surprise lit up the brothers' faces. They hadn't expected it, but Fey wasn't all too surprised that Tenma had come to such a conclusion by the mere few moments of interaction. Tenma had most likely read it in their body language alone, even.

"I'm glad that you can see that much already, Tenma," Yuuichi said. Even Kyousuke's expression had softened silently at that. "You wish to become Kyousuke's guardian, correct?"

Tenma's bright, carefree look was quick to fade into a firmer facial expression. The absolute devotion, tenacity and passion that he felt towards his future position as a guardian basically glittered off him, effecting the atmosphere all around them. Fey could feel goosebumps tingling at his skin as he found himself staring into metallic pools that burned with loyalty and love, yet an unfathomable ferocity.

Witnessing him this way, not one person would doubt that Tenma was indeed going to make a capable guardian.

"Yes!" Tenma declared, nodding his head fiercely in response. He didn't even notice it as he pounded his fist into the table through his pure emotions. "It's been an unconditional goal of mine since I first began my training. It's extremely important to me, and I'll gladly dedicate my entire being towards growing into an even greater guardian solely for your family. Kyousuke Tsurugi, specifically, though only if I can gain your approval. Otherwise, I'll return to training until I am deemed worthy enough for such a position. I forever dedicate my entire heart, as well as my life and soul."

It was more than obvious that Tenma had done more than impress the older brother, as Kyousuke merely closed his eyes – a small smile finding it's way to his lips. He was indeed a very lucky moroi...

"Your father would be so very proud of you, Tenma," Yuuichi extended his arm out across the table so that he could lightly touch the knuckles of Tenma's hand, "You remind me so much of him. But I can also see that your drive to protect Kyousuke goes beyond even your loyalty to your father's past position as our guardian. I didn't doubt otherwise for a second, but I can see that you care about Kyousuke with all your heart."

Tenma broke out into a wide smile, a rosy glow coating his tanned skin. It was stunning how naturally he seemed to switch between being so determined to being so completely and utterly flattered. "Thank you, Yuuichi! I'll make sure to protect Kyousuke no matter what!" It was more than obvious that Tenma was thrilled with the older brother's approval of him. "I won't disappoint you!"

"That's great, Tenma!" Fey beamed at the other, touching his shoulder fondly.

Yuuichi nodded, "You'll make an impressive guardian. The rest of my family looks forward to witnessing your results in the upcoming exams." He paused, seeming to hesitate before he lifted a decorative, wooden box that had apparently been resting on his lap, and he than placed it on the table.

Kyousuke's golden eyes flickered to it, his mouth a tight line across his face. His hand carefully slid the box towards him, encasing it in his pale fingers. Tenma and Fey merely watched curiously as Kyousuke said firmly to Yuuichi, an unwavering gaze on Tenma, "It should be me. I'll do it."

Yuuichi silently nodded, leaving the task of presenting Tenma with the redwood box to his younger brother. Tenma blinked at the moroi who would hopefully become his future charge as he slid the box closer towards the brunette, as if offering it to him.

"What's this?" Tenma peered down at the box before his puzzled eyes found their way back to Kyousuke.

"Open it," the dark haired moroi basically commanded, his facial expression unchanging from the impassive one he'd worn thus far. "I asked my brother to bring it with him once he came to visit. I figured you deserved to have it."

Tenma swallowed thickly, and Fey was more than capable of sensing his nerves. Fey figured that the dhampir had come to the conclusion that whatever it was the box held inside of it, that it had to have been related to his dad somehow. Tenma gingerly ran a hand along the box's smooth surface, sliding it towards him and handling it as if it were made of glass.

Seeming to hold his breath, the dhampir slowly raised the lid of the box, peeking inside of it. Fey leaned into Tenma's shoulder, watching as Tenma's fingers caressed the silver stake that lay snuggled inside, wrapped in a padded velvet that formed around it's shape. It looked rather old, judging by how scratched up it was. It was obvious that it had been through plenty of battles.

"Was that your dad's?" Fey tilted his head to the side slightly. It didn't seem that Tenma recognized it himself, judging by the unfamiliar look in his eyes. Then again, how would Tenma identify it when he'd been raised within a dhampir coven, living with a relative there? Growing up, a visit from his father had been a rare treat considering he'd been a guardian sworn to his duty.

When Tenma finally looked up from the stake, meeting golden eyes for an answer, Kyousuke nodded his head in order to confirm the answer to their question. "Yes. That was the silver stake that he used to protect us. I left it untouched, but if you wanted, we could have it polished up and you could wield it after graduation. I thought you might like that."

_'Tenma's always being reminded of his past too... I hope he's okay.' _

A small smile tugged at Tenma's lips at Kyousuke's thoughtfulness. The two really did care for one another... "That's really thoughtful of you. But I think that I might keep it with me as a sort of memento. I really want to become your guardian, Kyousuke, but your brother's right – it's not because I wanna become my father. I'm me, and I want to become my own guardian with my own legacy someday. Really, I just want to protect _you _because you're you. And well, I want you to think of me as more than just my father's son or the dhampir who became your guardian solely because he was that man's son. I'll work hard for it!"

"It will all work out somehow," Kyousuke smiled, "Right, Tenma?"

Tenma began to smile in response, when suddenly a look of panic dominated him and he exclaimed, "I probably sounded so ungrateful there! I did, didn't I? But I really appreciate it, and it's really sweet of -"

"Tenma," Fey chuckled sheepishly at the typical behaviour, wondering why he'd let himself feel startled at all by Tenma's sudden change in facial expression, "Calm down. We know."

Kyousuke seemed to roll his eyes from across the table, but it was more than obvious that he was fond of the entire situation. "You're so weird."

"I think what you said wasn't ungrateful, but lovely," Yuuichi joined in with a soft smile that Fey had long ago realized was a frequent look for him. "I can tell that having something like that in your possession makes you extremely happy. Kyousuke wanted to save it for you for once you graduated, but I guess he couldn't hold back any longer. I can see why."

Fey understood what he meant. Tenma's smile was so addictive that simply witnessing him in such spirits was capable of brightening one up all on it's own. But when Fey curiously took in the look on Tenma's face as he gazed down at the silver stake again, he couldn't keep from noting that he'd never once seen Tenma's eyes filled with such affection...

* * *

To tell him, or not to tell him.

That was what swarmed the spirit user's mind as he found a comfortable spot in the grass and settled himself down on his knees – hands resting in his lap as he closed his eyes and gave himself to the warm, soothing light of the moon. It's embrace felt nice, as it always did, but not even purification would vanquish the crease in his brow. His closed eyes fluttered slightly, and he subconsciously reached out towards the sky ahead of him, as if hoping that the moon may heal him as well as rid him of his dilemma. Hell, why not take away his feelings altogether.

He could sense Tenma's soothing, silver eyes watching him through the darkness, but that only made his knitted eyebrows twitch that much more.

Fey wanted so badly to spill what he'd learned from the feeding lady, sharing his frustrations with the dhampir. But he had never been all too good with such things. It had been easier to keep things to himself, as he hated worrying those around him. That, and he wouldn't need to feel the shame of sharing feelings that may or may not have been foolish...

But most importantly, today had been a huge one for Tenma. He'd met and been accepted by Yuuichi Tsurugi, striving that much closer to his dream in the process. There was no way Fey would rain on his parade. How could he? For something so pathetic, no less. It wasn't Tenma's fault that he hadn't gotten over his daddy issues, even after all this time.

"Does it feel nice?" Tenma asked, breaking the silence that surrounded them. They'd been sure to travel across the courtyard to an area that was more private as well as a fair distance from exits and entrances to the academy and it's dorms. A few people would sometimes stumble across them, but Fey didn't really care. Or at least, it helped him to think so.

Fey nodded, trying to concentrate on the fact that the bright, silver light really did feel incredible. It was better focusing on that instead of his conflicted thoughts. "It's warm," he murmured with a small smile, eyes remaining closed. When he could feel spirit's warm glow during moments like these, it was hard to believe that it caused a darkness that ate away at his mental state to build up inside of him.

"Hey, Tenma," Fey's eyes blinked open as he craned his neck around to where Tenma stood behind him. He lowered his arms, resting upturned hands back into his lap. His fingers tingled, twitching faintly every now and then as he continued to heal while bathed in the moon's potent light.

"Hm? What is it, Fey?" Tenma stepped closer to the moroi at the sudden call of his name, recognizing the change of tone in Fey's voice. "Are you okay?"

Fey hesitated, clenching his jaw at the temptation of talking to Tenma about what bugged him. It wouldn't take long, and Fey was positive Tenma's good mood would hardly be effected because of it. But the spirit user shook his head from side to side lightly, forcing a smile, "It's nothing serious."

The greenette paused for a moment, minty eyes pinned to the blades of grass below as he thought about anything else he could've spoken to Tenma about – anything to distract him from thinking about his dad, and that a maid who'd served him lived under the same roof that he did, even now. Then it hit him. It was more out of genuine concern once the thought struck him that he spoke, rather than a topic meant for distraction. "Your teacher," Fey began with a light smile, lifting his head to meet Tenma's silver eyes once more. His own orbs danced with both worry and hope. "How's your Bodyguard Theory & Personal Protection instructor's wife doing? Is she showing any signs of improvement yet?"

"Endou's wife? Natsumi?" Tenma gave off a sympathetic look, "That's really caring of you to always ask about her. I think that Endou was going to the hospital to see her today. She's still the same, I think."

Fey's light smile fell slightly, "Is that so... That's too bad."

Tenma's own eyebrows knitted together and he balled his fists to his chest, a sort of stubbornness finding it's way to his facial expression as he tried to remain positive. "Yeah, but she'll definitely get better! It'll all work out somehow!"

"Yeah. You're right. Both she and Endou are so strong, aren't they? They'll conquer it." Fey laughed lightly, adding, "But you know who I think is even stronger?" When Tenma's face lit up in a knowing smile, Fey continued before the brunette could sheepishly cut him off with his modesty. "What, I think you're amazing, okay? I'm really proud of you. We should talk about it more."

"Fey," Tenma giggled, "Yuuichi's acknowledgement of me _**is **_all you've been talking to me about since lunch!"

"Well... yeah," he admitted with a grin, "But it's exciting, isn't it?" He took a moment to feel the last of the darkness within him melt away, standing up from where he'd made himself comfortable in the grass, and brushing a hand over his track pants. He stretched, feeling both refreshed and brighter underneath the moonlight. Spirit use would continue to influence such as well, at least until the moon left the skies and it's connection with his spirit powers was closed.

Tenma approached the boy's side with a cheerful look, realizing that he must have been all finished up. He may have been modest, but it wasn't hard to see the excitement that sparkled in his own eyes. Graduation was soon to come, and it would really be Tenma's time to shine in the next couple of months. Receiving the precious stake that had belonged to his father only motivated him further. "Today was definitely really great," he said, "Despite you freaking me out in the beginning."

"Let's hope I'll actually make it to bed this time," Fey teased.

As the two continued to chat happily, they made their way to the moroi dorms. A few other students filled the artificially lit courtyard, mostly sticking in groups near the entrances to the dorms. Many were probably mingling and arranging parties before it was time for curfew in the next four or so hours.

"Were you going to stop by the feeders' room for dinner yet?" Tenma asked as the two of them stopped outside of the moroi dorm. A large group stood on their opposing side.

Fey shrugged. "It's still pretty early. Maybe in the next bit." It being too early for him to eat dinner wasn't a lie, but Fey hoped to avoid going altogether. It was silly of him to think that the woman from earlier would still be there even now. Obviously she'd been switched out for other feeders long ago, but even so... "For now, I think I'll go and check my emails. I think that one of the guardians was gonna stop by for a moon ring, too."

"Oh, okay! I think I'll go to the caf. I'm starving! But I'll see you later tonight before curfew? We can watch stupid youtube videos or something. That's always fun. You'll have to tell me if you get any leads in your emails too."

"Okay!" Fey smiled, "You can bring your soccer ball with you too, and we can see if there's space in the courtyard to kick it around a bit. There shouldn't be as many students out here by that point."

Tenma, being a tad bit of a soccer freak, happily agreed to that before the two went their separate ways yet again. According to Tenma, soccer had been the one thing to keep him from ever feeling lonely back when his dad was absent a lot of the time. He referred to it as his friend. Fey had picked up the sport not long after meeting Tenma, using it to maybe help ease him of his own loneliness as well.

Once in his room, Fey locked the door behind him and started up the shower in his bathroom's tub. Stripping himself of his clothes, he stepped into the warm spray of water, letting it hit his face as he combed porcelain fingers through the damp hair that had immediately clung to his bare skin at the steamy water's touch. A sweet sigh slipped through his parted lips at how nice it felt tending to his physical needs now that his mind was free of spirit's darkness for the time being. The ease that his mind felt was at it's highest point, and so he figured having a relaxing shower would calm him to the point where he wouldn't need to think about the little things that poked and prodded him.

After washing his hair and skin, the moroi emerged from the steam-filled shower, wrapping a towel around his exposed body as he worked at drying his dripping locks of hair. When he managed to do so, he slipped into a red and white three-quarter sleeve shirt and the same comfortable, black track pants as before.

His hair was still slightly damp, so before he left the bathroom and threw himself into the computer chair at his desk, he draped a small towel over his head, letting it rest there as if it were a veil. With that, Fey lifted the lid of his laptop, revealing it's screen. He patiently waited for it to boot up, spinning in his swivel chair and playing with the towel on his head as he did so. When the desktop finally filled the bright screen, Fey immediately went straight to his email. It wasn't often that he got any leads on his search, but he often left posts on forums and would sometimes have somebody respond to him on the email he'd provided there. They always ended up being rather useless, but he liked to check everyday, just in case.

If his father had known about it, then there had to be somebody else out there who knew of books and legends about it that he'd failed to come across so far; it's location ; or even important information on the object he sought.

He didn't have high hopes, sighing as he looked through a few new emails he had. The majority were spam, but once he reached the last unread message on the list, he basically gasped in surprise at the topic name, squinting his eyes curiously at the email address.

"RedLagoon. Red Lagoon?" he read aloud, tilting his head ever so slightly as he clicked the message. He read it carefully, a bit uncertain on whether they could be reliable or not because of the name. It sounded like the kind of email an RPG or online gamer may have. He'd had a few others in the past mistake his forum posts for questions about items in online games. Though for an ordinary human to stumble upon it, that sort of response was to be expected.

* * *

_To: LostMirror _

_Subject: Lost Mirror_

_Yo, I saw your post about the Lost Mirror on Tumblr. Are you still looking for more books about it's legends? It's supposed to cast infinite power on those who are apparently born under the moon or whatever, right? It sounds a lot like something one of my connections may know about. That is, if the word 'Alchemist' means anything to you. If so, let me know and we can discuss this in more detail._

* * *

Fey blinked in astonishment at the screen, drawing his legs up onto the chair as he crossed them, "Alchemists!?"

Red Lagoon was an Alchemist? Or at least, an acquaintance to one!? He'd briefly met one when he'd been some sort of vagabond: after he'd left his home with the Badicas, but before the academy had taken him in. They were humans who were sworn to secrecy, tasked with the duty of keeping the existence of vampires hidden. Their obligation was rewarded with the gift of a charmed, golden tattoo on their cheek that gave them the gift of an extended life and an immunity to illness.

To have one offer aid to him... It was strange. Alchemists may have been tasked with keeping the vampire world a secret, but they themselves weren't a public topic even among vampires. Only very few knew of the Alchemists and their existence. They often kept to themselves, only going as far as their duty needed them to. They didn't take any extra steps, especially for moroi or dhampirs, who they believed to be evil creatures of the night. Because of the knowledge that Fey possessed, this Red Lagoon had to have known that he was either a moroi or a dhampir...

But it was true that their connections were incredibly vast, meaning this would be the best chance that Fey would probably ever get.

All the while, there was something odd about this that Fey simply couldn't shake...


	3. Insanity's Cure

**I kept forgetting to mention it the other two chapters, but I did put it on my tumblr account: Just that SaruFey will probably be the only pair to have any sort of intimate scenes and such. The other pairings, primarily the one sided hints of Tenma and Fey, can each be determined by the readers whether it's romance or simply friendship. I tried to leave it open, mostly. **

**But yeah! Thanks a bunch to everybody who reads, and I hope you enjoy this chapter! I liked writing this one a lot, so I hope it's interesting to read also. =) **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Inazuma or Vampire Academy. Oh, or Subway.**

**WARNING: ****T for Strong Language, Violence, Blood & Gore, and Torture. Also **TRIGGER WARNINGS THIS CHAPTER! 

**Pairing: Eventual SaruFey. I tried to leave other pairings (such as Fey x Tenma & Tsurugi x Tenma) open for the readers to interpret how they'd like.**

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**Chapter Three – Insanity's Cure**

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_Four Years Previous – Denver, Colorado – Badica Manor – Age: 12, nearly 13_

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_'Take it back! You have to take it back!' _

_'I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!' _

_'I can't do this anymore!' _

The images of bodies that twisted and writhed in agony, falling into heaps on the floor as they screamed out at his mere touch, flooded his mind. Fey squeezed his pillow to his chest so tightly that his knuckles had begun to pale even more so than his natural complexion. He struggled to breathe through the tears that poured from his eyes at an overwhelming force, powerful sobs and strangled gasps the only sounds that came from him.

No matter what it was he did and no matter how many times he hurt himself in order to compensate for what he had done, he couldn't forget. Nothing helped. It was only getting worse, and instead of solely infecting others with his evil, he could feel it now affecting him. He'd lose his mind, just as he had done to those he'd infected.

_'Maybe I should just die.' _

He squeezed his eyes shut even more tightly, unable to open them through the force of his tears as he clutched at his head with his hands. His mind raced, and the dark images and thoughts remained. It wasn't for a few more moments that his sore eyes blinked open, his cries ceasing momentarily as the strangest sensation coursed through his entire body. He rubbed at his eyes, blinking away tears as a faint, warm glow settled within him.

Fey had experienced it before, for the past few nights, actually. It seemed to be some type of occurrence that happened either once it was dark outside, or in the evening at some point... He didn't quite understand why, but all he did understand was that it was the only thing that was capable of soothing him as of late. It didn't stop his dark thoughts, but it gave him hope. It was almost as if something – or someone – was calling out to him. He wasn't so alone.

"What do you want?" he murmured shakily into the space of his bedroom, "Can't you just tell me?"

Sadly, Fey hugged his legs to his chest, wishing so badly that whatever it was that was happening to him could just stop: both the deranged thoughts and actions they influenced upon him ; his powers; and even the strange, comforting light inside him. "What's happening to me...?" He swallowed thickly, trying his hardest to hold back the tears that continued to prickle at his eyes. A single drop slid across his cheek and his thoughts began to wander yet again. "Maybe after making everybody else suffer, this is what I deserve."

His heart aching to the point where he couldn't bear it any longer, the moroi succumbed to his tears, wishing there was a remedy of some sort that could take all of the pain away. There was a temporary solution, but it never lasted...

Quaking, Fey clumsily yanked at the sleeve of his shirt, pulling it up in order to reveal bared porcelain skin underneath. It had already endured various punishments, and yet not one scar tainted it's smooth surface. His warped mind had spared him enough time in-between each act of retribution for his superior healing to ensure such.

Reluctantly, the moroi lifted his exposed arm to his lips, trembling as his heart clenched at what he was about to do.

_'Anything is better than this. Just do it! I don't want to think anymore... This way, there's just physical pain. Do it, for god's sakes! Stop being a coward!' _

Sobbing, Fey sank his fangs into his wrist, running it along the skin of his arm. A muffled whine came from him at the pain that seared at his skin. He could feel the warm fluid that was his blood smear his lips, gushing it's way out from between the inflicted wound and his fangs so that it could run along the surface of Fey's arm and stain his porcelain skin crimson. He withdrew after clamping down a few more times so that he could create a few deep puncture holes next to the shallower cut that continued to seep with blood.

The boy took several shaky breathes as he peered down at what he had done, nausea settling in the pit of his stomach as the taste of his own blood contaminated his taste buds. A thin trail ran down his mouth towards his chin, and his lips were caked in the bright liquid as if it were lipstick.

He tried to take several deep breathes, feeling as if he were on the verge of a breakdown. He could feel his thoughts only grow darker as his eyes burned with all the more tears. He was drowning. That's what it felt like. He didn't know what to do with himself anymore. He couldn't go on like this much longer. Maybe he really was better off dead.

_'All you have to do is bite down a bit harder, and let it all bleed out...' _

He was transfixed on the blood that continued to run down his arm, wondering if it would be scary. Maybe it would hurt a bunch at first... but... but maybe it wouldn't be all that bad. Maybe it would feel relieving to finally let go.

He wouldn't have to think about his dad... or his mom... or how he filled one with insanity with a single touch.

"Fayah, must you cry so loudly? We're trying to sleep! You -"

Fey's eyes left the mess that was his arm, whipping around to meet the eyes of Marcella, who stood in his open doorway. He watched as a look of horror crossed her facial features. "What in God's name!? You're biting yourself now!?" her eyes flickered to the blood that stained his mouth and then to his arm. Automatically, Fey self-consciously tugged his sleeve back down. "What's wrong with you, child!? For these past few days, you've been acting like a crazy person!"

Crazy...

Fey avoided her eyes, unable to meet them as he lowered his head in shame. His mouth opened, closed and then opened again as he thought about muttering apologies. But he figured they wouldn't mean a thing. He'd grown accustomed to the way people often looked at him. Marcella's eyes had been filled with either terror or fear each time she looked at him... It'd been that way for awhile. Maybe he really was crazy. Maybe that was why he needed to end it.

"I'm erasing the problem," Fey spoke bitterly, his eyes narrowing as they glared into the mattress of his bed underneath him. Splatters of blood had found their way onto his bedsheets by that point.

Marcella gave him a wary stare, "What's come over you? Your magic has always been evil, but even then, you've never behaved this way. But now you're having breakdowns, and crying so loudly that I can hear you from my room? And hurting yourself? Do I need to call a doctor?"

"No!" came the voice of Marcella's husband as he joined her at her side. Their guardian stood nearby, also, following them like a shadow. "No doctors! No hospitals! No! Let's just do what we should've done a long time ago!"

As if on cue, the guardian stepped into Fey's bedroom, tossing him a pair of leather gloves. They hit him in the face, landing in his lap afterwards. He stared down at them, and his eyebrows knitted together angrily. "You don't have better aim?" he growled. Normally he wouldn't have talked back, but lately, he'd been a lot more snappier than usual. More emotional in general, really.

Maybe he really was going crazy. Maybe his magic or whatever had lashed out on others, and was now targeting it's host.

"Put them on," the guardian commanded, his tone detached, "Your magic works through touch. At least, that's what I've picked up on."

Marcella frowned, "You're not taking him down there, are you? Look, his magic might be destructive, but Fayah's nature contradicts that. We can't just leave him this way. He obviously needs help. Besides, as much as what he can do frightens me, he's still only a child. My brother's son, no less."

"What, Marcella? You'd rather continue giving him a free reign of the house so he can bewitch those of us remaining? What's worse, you'd risk exposing him to the outside? You want him to destroy the life of an innocent doctor next?" her husband protested desperately.

She merely sighed as the guardian coldly demanded for Fey to put on the gloves a second time.

"You can either put the gloves on, or I'll take you while you're unconscious. Your choice."

"You're stupid if you think this is gonna be enough to stop it..." Fey mumbled, pulling the gloves over his fingers. He'd never tested the theory, and he did have to admit it was when he touched people that he turned them dark. But even so... He had doubts that something so simple would solve it.

"Shut up," the guardian said sharply, his hesitation to approach the boy quickly dying once the gloves were placed over his hands. He swooped in on him, yanking him up by the arm. "I'm not allowing for this family to live in fear any longer."

Fey hissed as firm fingers pressed against his open cuts, and he attempted to resist as the guardian dragged him through his doorway and down the set of vast, spiral shaped stairs. Marcella and her husband followed them, frantically whispering things to one another as they did so.

"Let me go! Don't touch me!" It had become almost natural for others not to touch him in fear that they would be 'infected' by him, and he didn't know if he was shouting through fear that the gloves really wouldn't work, or if being touched by another after so long simply made him feel uncomfortable.

The guardian jerked at Fey's arm more roughly. "I told you to shut up!"

"Can you at least slow down!?" Fey snapped back, just barely managing to make it down the stairs without tumbling forward as the guardian continued to drag him along. But it didn't seem the guardian cared whether he face-planted or not, because his pace quickened if anything. It wasn't until they swung through the door to the basement that Fey spoke again, his tone housing a notable sum of unease. "Where are you taking me!? I'm not fucking going down there!" He began to thrash his arm, trying to pry it free of the guardian's steel grip.

"We're doing what's best for everybody," Marcella's husband said from behind them, "It's too dangerous for you to do as you please. You're dangerous to yourself and everybody around you, clearly."

To keep the moroi boy from being difficult for another second, the guardian swept him up into his arms, forcibly carrying him down the basement stairs instead. Fey continued to struggle, though it was much more awkward for him to do so.

The lights were dim, but Fey's eyes widened once they reached the base of the stairs and he noticed the cage that sat only a few more feet away. His effort to break free from the guardian only intensified as he screamed, "Let me go! Let me go!" He tried to kick his legs, but the blows were hardly even a problem for the professionally trained guardian. His hands, which lashed out wherever they could as he panicked, weren't much help either. All that was left for him to do was scream as the guardian placed him inside the cage, grabbing for one of the chains and attempting to lock it around his wrist.

"Stop struggling!" the guardian snatched his arm, trying to keep it still as he tried to chain it.

Fey cried out, thrashing wildly as hysteria reached an all-time high. He squeezed his eyes shut as he thrashed through his terror, whipping the guardian's hands away frantically as his tears returned and ran down his face. "Leave me alone! Don't touch me!" he screamed, his voice cracking.

And that was when the glow inside of him grew brighter... warmer.

He opened his eyes in shock at the sudden, overwhelming sensation, watching as a pale light glowed against the skin of his raised hands. His fingers tingled, and the silvery light extended from his gloved fingers – creating a sort of wall or barrier around him that sent the guardian flying backwards. Fey watched in astonishment as the guardian hit the bars of the cage with a sickening thud. He then sagged to the floor, motionless.

The glow within him dissipated back to it's usual strength as the light around him faded, seeming to melt into the air in an array of graceful, silver particles.

"What have you done now!?" it was Marcella's dread that snapped him back to reality, his shocked minty orbs leaving their spot on the motionless body to where Marcella and her husband stood against the basement wall, petrified.

Numb, Fey slowly crawled to where the guardian's still body lay, inspecting it to realize that a pool of blood had begun to gather where his head lay on the cold concrete floor. "Oh god..." Fey climbed out of the cage shakily, staring at his hands in disbelief. That disbelief was soon replaced with scorn.

"Oh my god, oh my god...," he managed to utter breathlessly. Waves of self-loathing and revulsion over what he had done caused him to shake all the more violently until he was forced to his knees, and he expelled all of the blood and small portions of human food that his stomach held within it onto the floor below, heaving for air afterwards.

"I have to go," he clutched at the fabric of his shirt at his chest, a pathetic mess as he picked himself up from the ground and stumbled towards the basement stairs. Marcella and her husband pressed themselves against the wall even more so at his movement, slowly inching away as far away as they could as they watched him with alarmed eyes. "I can't stay here anymore..."

He climbed the stairs brokenly, holding back sobs and the apologies that he wished he could make. But it was all too late for such things... He was a murderer. He held the touch of death. Maybe he _was_ death. It was too late...

_'I don't want to hurt anybody anymore.' _

Silent tears ran down his face as he made his way to his room.

_'Freak! You're nothing more than a freak. Just go! Leave! You don't belong here. You don't belong anywhere... Maybe it really is best to...to just end it.' _

Fey wandered into his room, sniffling as he sucked in a deep breath and approached the window. He pulled the curtains back, pushing the casement window open. The cool, night air rushed inside, whisking at his strands of hair. It would've felt nice if he didn't feel so numb.

The moroi pressed his quaking hands against the window frame, leaning over it so that he could peer downwards. The house was a large one – a manor more so than a house. The drop was a high one... Maybe enough to kill him.

Fey swallowed thickly, his eyes glued to the garden below. His heart had long since frozen in his chest as he held his breath, unable to shake the thoughts of what he should do in order to spare himself of anymore misery.

Slowly, he pulled himself up onto the frame of the window, managing to climb out onto the ledge, sitting himself there as he continued to stare at the ground that would hopefully result in the death of him. As he did so, he could feel his heart pick up again, it's frozen state thawing as it began to hammer through his chest in fright. He was so scared...

He sobbed, gritting his teeth as his face fell into the palms of his hands.

_'I can't do it!' _

His fingers curled around his bangs fiercely through both his utmost grief and frustration.

_'Coward! Coward! Coward! Coward!' _

He tugged harder, never loosening. Not until he could feel the warm, soothing glow within him grow brighter like it had before. Startled, Fey lifted his head, setting his hands in his lap as they joined fingers, squeezing at one another desperately.

Puzzled, Fey's gaze drifted this way and that until he finally peered behind him.

Nothing. No one was there. And nothing was happening.

"What's happening to me? What's my 'magic' gonna do now?" he squeezed his hands together more tightly, turning his head back to the star filled sky. His eyes locked with the moon that had recently managed to unveil itself from behind thick clouds, drawn there for reasons he couldn't comprehend. It felt as if...

He wasn't sure.

Fey furrowed his eyebrows, unable to look away from the moon as it's silver light flooded over his form. It almost felt as if the moonlight was embracing him.

He gave into the feeling, closing his eyes at it's pleasantness and almost forgetting about the fact that he'd contemplated on killing himself only moments ago.

It was strange... but Fey could feel it as the moonlight caressed his mind, seeming to gradually ease it to the point where killing himself sounded like a distant, illogical thought. It was almost as if the moon lifted the weight that he'd been carrying, sapping him of the dark thoughts that had plagued him as of late.

His eyes fluttered open when his mind felt refreshed and the sensation died down.

Fey hardly understood what had just happened, but he was grateful to it, whatever it was. He climbed back into his room, horrified at what he had nearly done to himself. What had he been thinking? Regardless, the moonlight had done little to 'heal' him of his guilt and the terror that he felt at hurting those around him. It was still an unquestionable fact that he needed to leave. He couldn't stay here.

The moroi felt somewhat relieved by the leather gloves that he now owned, feeling a bit more hopeful that maybe they could at least keep him from making one go insane by a mere touch. He took them off as he packed a backpack with nothing but a few extra clothes and the neglected Robin plush that had been stuffed in a drawer since the incident with the magic mirror, only placing them back over his hands and intending to keep them there once he'd gone into the bathroom and cleaned the dry blood that had remained on his lips and chin this entire time.

With that, Fey swung the backpack over his shoulders, leaving the space that had served as his bedroom for the past five or so years. It'd been the place where he'd spent most of his time, but even so, he couldn't say that he'd miss it.

Swearing that he wouldn't glance back even once, Fey bolted down the stairs, and found his way to the manor's entrance. It wasn't often that he'd left the house while living there. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd been outside, with the exception of the garden in the back. Even then, there would always be a guardian around to supervise him. He swallowed thickly, wrapping his hand around the doorknob. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't nervous, but he'd already made up his mind. He should've done this a long time ago. He'd never belonged. There was no turning back now. Not after all the blood that he had been at fault for spilling, and all in this very house.

The door creaked open, and Fey hesitantly stepped outside into the night air, taking in his vast surroundings. It was overwhelming, but it didn't matter where he went. So long as he wasn't in that manor anymore. No one would miss him, and frankly, he wouldn't miss it all too much himself.

With one last deep breath, Fey gripped at the straps of his backpack after he'd shut the door behind him. No one would come after him, so he didn't fear pursuers. Hell, he wouldn't be surprised if his running away would be reported at all. Regardless, he felt himself eager to escape the front porch and so hurried down their long walkway until he made his way to the gate. He climbed over it's steel bars clumsily, dropping to the sidewalk below on the other side.

He sighed, uncertain eyes flickering between the two directions that the street took. He peered up at the sky, feeling somewhat less afraid when he could stare up at the moon with captivated orbs whenever he needed the reassurance, as well as feel it's pale light shining down on him. He felt that maybe it was his guide.

With that in mind, Fey followed the moon without anymore hesitation, walking in the direction that felt as if it brought the two closer together somehow.

The neighbourhood wasn't at all familiar to him, thanks to his seclusion, but it seemed peaceful enough as he walked past a few other large houses, taking in the sights of the majestic trees that he passed as well as the elegant street lamps that lined the road, illuminating his surroundings with their dim, artificial light. The breeze was gentle against his form, and everything seemed so quiet.

It didn't seem that every area he cut through was the same, however.

After walking for a while, Fey had found himself in what was known as 'downtown.' It was much more clustered and busy, even at this time of night. The buildings and his overall surroundings didn't hold the same elegance as before, and everything seemed a lot more run down, if anything. There was garbage littering the sidewalk, spray paint plastered on random walls, and eerie people who eyed him as he walked by where they stood silently... Being a royal, he'd always seen only the wealthiest of places, and this new environment baffled him and also made him feel uncomfortable.

Once he'd made his way through that distressing part of town and found himself at an empty park, Fey decided that he'd stay there for the night. He'd been on his feet for hours, and since he'd been living on a human type time schedule while with the Badica's, it was already long past his bedtime. With aching feet, the moroi stumbled towards the playhouse that resided in the sand pit, swinging his bag from his back before crawling into a tube that was used for children to crawl through as they played. He settled himself inside, curling up as he placed his bag behind his head as some sort of pillow.

It was _different_... But it would have to do.

"Could be worse..." Fey found himself whispering to himself as the fingers of his left hand hugged at the edge of his backpack, "They could've put me in that cage."

He stifled a yawn, reluctantly closing his tired eyes. Every sound fed his paranoia, but he struggled to keep them shut, wanting nothing more than sleep after such an eventful night. After attempting such for about an hour, Fey sighed heavily, lifting his head just enough so that he could pull something from his bag.

"I still hate you... But I..." he trailed off, unable to come up with an excuse.

Stubbornly, and unable to admit that he was scared, Fey drew Robin from the bag and then hugged him to his chest fiercely before drifting into the dream with his papa in it: the one that he experienced each and every night.

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"Where did I think I could go?" Fey groaned as he walked along the side of the road, a thumb raised towards the passing cars. "A moroi living on the streets without any protection against strigoi... it's suicide. I may as well wear a shirt that says in bold print: **Moroi blood up for grabs. Go ahead. Take a bite**."

He'd been in such a rush that it hadn't really crossed his mind that his safety was threatened on critical levels. But with a rested mind, he realized how foolish he'd been. He should've prepared himself better, at least.

He didn't know how he would defend himself, if the time called for it. And most importantly, he had no idea what he was going to do for blood. He'd left without giving it much thought. It hadn't hit him until he'd woken up hungry that morning...

For now, he was trying his best to get a ride – another dangerous tactic. But the more distance he put between himself and the Badica's, the better. He'd think about what he'd do for breakfast once he was in another city. Maybe he could go to a clinic or a hospital and try to snag something from there? Or maybe he could find a feeder somehow? He was completely stumped, and figured that he could think of a way to get himself some blood on the ride.

"Yeah, if I even manage that," he muttered, frustrated by the amount of cars that had simply passed him by without even a glance. "Humans are heartless."

By the time a car finally pulled over next to him, rolling down her car window in order to speak with him, Fey could've sworn he'd walked down the road so far that he must have been in a different city already anyway. Oh well. Like he'd said: the further the better.

"Hey, kid," the female driver called from the window as Fey approached her car, "What's somebody so young doing all on their own like this? You're not a runaway, are you?"

Fey forced a laugh, though it was painfully obvious that he was lying, "Oh? Is that what this looks like? No, you could say I like sight seeing."

"Sight seeing?" she raised an eyebrow at him, sighing lightly as she jerked her thumb towards the back of her car, "Get in. Where is it you wanna do your _sight seeing_?"

Fey shrugged as he opened up the door and climbed into the back of her car. "I dunno. How far are you willing to drive?"

"Not a runaway, huh?" her lips formed into an amused smile as she remained parked at the side of the road, twisting around in her seat so that she could look back at him. "I'm driving all the way up to Lexington, Nebraska. Did you want to leave Colorado? I could drop you off in Aurora, if you'd like?"

"No, I'll stick around for the whole ride, if that's okay."

"Long as four and a half hours of driving doesn't bore you. I plan to make a stop for food on the way too, so we'll have a chance to stretch our legs." She frowned. "Are you sure you wanna be so far from home? How old are you? Fifteen?"

Maybe being a moroi made him appear older than he truly was?

"Close enough," Fey pressed his lips together, licking them before adding, "Either way, I need to get out of here and start over with a clean slate."

The woman gave him a skeptical look, "Young people are so naive. What do you plan on doing once we reach Nebraska? Get a job? Live on your own? Nobody's gonna hire somebody so young. You need a plan. Besides, what could you have possibly done by your age that's so bad that you need to start anew?"

Fey dodged her eyes, unwilling to share the fact that he was a murderer. Not only would she refuse to drive him anywhere after that, but he was supposed to keep all of that behind him. Instead he mumbled, "I don't want to talk about it..."

She gave him a sympathetic look, shrugging as she started the car back up and found her way back onto the road as they travelled at a steady pace. Fey hadn't been given the chance to ride in many vehicles, but he found it mesmerizing as he stared through the window. The world simply blurred by him, displaying to him all of the curious sights and charming landscapes he had missed out on all this time. It was soothing, and it preoccupied him.

"I'm Meia, by the way," the woman mentioned as she continued to stare forward, keeping her eyes on the road, "What's your name?"

"Fayah Ba-" he cut himself off. No. This was supposed to be a new start for him. He didn't need people to know who he was. "Fey. Just Fey."

"Just Fey?" she repeated, "Fayah's a nice name though."

He shrugged.

"Well, _Fey_," Meia paused, emphasizing his nickname in hopes to please him after the cold reaction, "Why don't you take off those gloves and your coat. May as well get comfortable."

Fey's hands balled in his lap, a rush of panic coursing through him at the mere thought of taking the gloves away from his hands. No more... he wouldn't hurt people anymore.

Self-consciously tracing a finger over his right hand with his left, Fey shook his head, "I'm fine."

He redirected his gaze to the window.

"Do you like looking out through the window? It's calming, isn't it?" Meia's tone was soft, nostalgic even, "When I was pregnant, my husband would take me on drives and I'd do the same. It's weird, but it eased my nerves of becoming a mother."

Fey's eyebrows knitted together, the subject piquing his interest. He'd never had a mother of his own, and couldn't exactly understand what one must have been like. Maybe that was why he was so curious. "You have a kid?"

"Yeah, a daughter."

The moroi's face grew faintly sour. "Why aren't you with her? Why would you leave her and come to Colorado without her?"

"Oh, my husband's with her right now. I needed to come out here for a couple of days because of my job, but I'm heading home now. I miss them so much," Fey could hear the smile in her tone as she spoke.

As the long drive continued, Fey slowly became more talkative with the stranger, asking her more questions about her family considering she seemed to adore them so much. It made him sad, and even a little bit jealous, but it was still nice to see that there were families far more fortunate than his own.

Apparently, Meia's husband's name was Giris and the two of them were twenty-one years old, and their newborn daughter was only eight months. Meia was a business woman for a large company, while Giris was a stay-at-home dad. Fey didn't mind the conversation, so long as they focused solely on Meia's family and he didn't need to disclose anything about himself. She seemed to sense that from him, as she didn't pry.

After a few hours had passed, they stopped by a SUBWAY restaurant – stretching their stiff bodies as they climbed out of the car and entered the interior of the sandwich shop. Fey had fit in a short nap just before arriving, and so rubbed at his eyes groggily as he followed Meia inside. He shielded his eyes from the sun, finding it's rays to be quite exhausting after being exposed to them more than he was used to.

"Are you hungry?" Meia asked, twisting her head back to look at him with her green orbs as he followed after her.

Fey _was _hungry. Very much so, actually. Except that he craved blood more than anything... Maybe human food would be enough to get him by for now, at least. He wasn't really sure considering he'd never been deprived of blood for so long before.

"If it's a money issue, let me treat you."

The moroi, who'd begun fishing through his pockets for any change that he might have been carrying on him, looked up at her in disbelief. The maids and such had always made him meals and the manor had been provided with feeders, but never had Marcella or her husband offered to buy him anything. Even their Christmas' had been spent without him. He'd been shunned in his room each year as they either went out to some other royal's manor, travelled to Court, or held some sort of formal party downstairs.

Before he could stop her, Meia was already approaching the front desk where the servers waited for them to take their orders. She ordered something for herself, and than turned to Fey, cocking her head, "What would you like, Fey?"

"Are you sure?" he asked. When she nodded, he pressed his lips together, feeling odd when he hadn't ever ordered anything before. When he'd lived in San Francisco with his dad, he'd always known what to get him. Fey hadn't been old enough to order anything by himself... He didn't really know how it worked, but he felt too sheepish to admit such. How did it go on TV shows again? He'd seen it in movies and on shows before. There was a menu somewhere, right?

_'Sandwiches. Just think of things you put on sandwiches from the top of your head and you'll be fine.' _

He caught a glimpse of what looked like different sizes of sandwiches on a poster that hung above the servers, so he said, "I'll get whatever's smallest." He paused, pressing his index finger to his lips. "Hmmm, and I'll have the same type as you. I'm not picky."

"If you're sure. You can have whatever you'd like," she mentioned, waiting a few extra seconds to see if he'd change his mind before she realized that he wouldn't, and so ordered a six inch version of what she'd gotten for herself. "What about a drink?"

"Water's fine, thanks."

Once they received their food and Meia paid for it, the two sat down at one of the clean tables, unwrapping their subs from the white, green and yellow wrapping paper. Meia gave him a curious look, watching as he took his sub into his hands and took a tentative bite. He'd long ago adapted to eating and smiling in a way that kept his fangs concealed, so that wasn't an issue as the human across from him continued to eye him. Fey wondered if maybe she found it weird that he didn't take his leather gloves off even as he handled his food. She didn't say so aloud, however, instead asking, "You car sick?"

"Car sick?" he repeated after snapping a piece of lettuce apart with his teeth, "Hmmm, no."

He couldn't exactly tell her that he would much rather have been drinking blood... which he still hadn't thought up a plan for getting his hands on, speaking of which.

She didn't question him further, simply tending to her sub as Fey continued to do the same, taking moments to down gulps of water every now and then. When they finished, Meia stood from the table and tossed their garbage away, suggesting that Fey hit the restroom before they headed out again. It would take them another few hours to reach Lexington, after all.

The food seemed to help with his craving, if even a little bit, so that was relieving for him as he climbed back into the car after leaving the restaurant. Meia waited for him in the driver's seat, inviting him to sit upfront with her, though he politely declined.

Once the car started up again, Fey leaned against the window, closing his eyes as the clear surface pressed against the side of his forehead, feeling so very cool against his skin. He felt more relaxed after eating, but now he'd also taken notice of a strange sensation within him. He couldn't explain it properly, but it almost felt as if some part of him craved for it to be the nighttime again. He felt... almost lost without the moon there to guide him: almost as if the dark thoughts from before were trying to seep back into him, now that the moon wasn't there to protect him.

Whatever it was, it made his head hurt.

He tried his best to ignore it by inviting sleep yet again.

_'Maybe I really am car sick?' _

It seemed that may have been the case considering he could feel the sensation grow stronger as their day rolled into the late afternoon, prolonging the amount of time spent in the vehicle.

He'd managed to sleep for a tiny bit, but found himself staring out through the window for the remainder of the ride, startled from his dazed state as Meia announced, "We're here." Fey's eyes fluttered in surprise, realizing that they were pulling into the driveway of the home that must have been Meia's. A man with black framed glasses, who must have been Giris, basically swung his way through the front door, rushing down towards the driveway as Meia opened the driver's door and greeted him and her daughter just as lovingly. In his arms, he cradled their daughter and Meia leaned down and offered a finger for her daughter to hold, her face bright as she seemed to speak sweetly to her.

Fey watched their interaction through the window, that same pang of both envy and a sincerity for their blessing from before coursing through him. He didn't leave the quiet space of the car until Meia waved for him to come out, excited to introduce him to the family she had told him so much about.

Fey obliged, somewhat reluctant about meeting new people... but Meia had brought him all the way here with little fuss, and she seemed extremely kind. She almost reminded him of Natsumi, in a way. It wasn't as if they were bad people. He shouldn't need to feel nervous.

"Fey!" the voice that had been muted while he remained in the car now flooded his ears as he emerged from it's interior, his posture uptight. "This is my better-half and husband, Giris. And this little one here is my beloved daughter, Cara."

"And I see you've already met my angel, of course." Giris seemed to swoon. "Isn't she just the sweetest?"

Meia blushed, poking her husband's face fondly. "Oh? And is it just me, or have you become more handsome since I last saw you?"

"And you more beautiful. I didn't think it was possible, dear Meia."

She clasped a hand to her cheek, trying to fight away her blush. Fey merely watched silently, his eyes drifting between them at the whole awkward scenario. Was this how a husband and wife displayed their affection for one another? Marcella and her husband had never been so... so... _lovey-dovey_? Was this normal? It was sort of weird.

"Come on, hunny – let's get Cara inside. It's getting chillier," Meia draped an arm around his shoulder, rubbing at his shoulder blade as she peered down at Cara. She looked towards Fey after directing a smile at her daughter. "Fey, why don't you stay with us tonight and sort out where it is you wanted to go in the morning. It's getting late."

Fey smiled weakly at the offer, wondering what it would be like to stay with such a loving family. It would probably be nice. But why tease himself when it just wasn't possible for him to stay there forever? He'd already destroyed the lives of two families, one of which was his own. He would never forgive himself if he brought that same pain to this lovely family...

He shook his head, "Thanks for everything you've done for me, but I can't..."

Meia seemed disappointed and even the husband who had only just met him seemed concerned. But she didn't press him, instead giving him a small smile. "Okay. But take care of yourself, alright? If you ever need anything, you know where to find us."

Fey didn't say so aloud, but he didn't plan on staying in Lexington... They may not have understood, but the further he was from them, the better. That, and he didn't feel as if he were far enough from Denver. Four or so hours felt like nothing: not if the police would be looking out for him. He didn't expect Marcella and her family to file a missing person's report, but even so. He'd much rather be safe than sorry.

"Thanks for the ride," Fey said before turning away from the home. He was worried that he'd change his mind about staying the night if he remained there much longer. "It was nice meeting you all. I can tell you're a really happy family. Stay that way, okay?"

He didn't stay long enough to hear their response, hurrying down the driveway without glimpsing back as he gripped tight hands around the straps of his backpack.

_'Never. Never look back.' _

He didn't notice it as Meia and Giris watched him with worry in their eyes, remaining where they stood until Fey disappeared down the street.

* * *

In a time span of three days, Fey had managed to trek, and mostly hitchhike as well as sneak aboard trucks and cargo trains, across the States of Iowa, Illinois, Indiana, and he now found himself in the boundless city of Cleveland, Ohio. He'd managed such a feat, and yet he hadn't solved his blood dilemma. Not even close.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten human food, even, as he dragged himself through the shadowed alleyway, desperate and tired as his lack of blood left him with paling skin and dark circles underneath his eyes. His strength was leaving him, and it was more than obvious that he needed to quit dismissing the problem.

Desperate times called for desperate measures.

He still wasn't sure of what he'd do for blood, but even human food would be enough to give him energy that he so needed. It was better than nothing at all. So, in order to obtain such a thing, Fey prepared to do one of the last things he'd ever imagined himself doing.

He scrunched his nose up in disgust, but far too hungry to turn back now, as he lifted the lid to the dumpster that resided at the back of the alley he'd wandered through.

With a whine, he leaned over it's edge, removing his gloves and stuffing them into his pocket before casting his hands into the pile of garbage, pushing things aside in search for anything that may have been edible. A McDonald's and a SUBWAY operated nearby, so there had to be some leftovers tossed aside...

He dug and dug, his face scrunching more at some of the things that people threw out. It was pretty gross, but it didn't seem anything could kill his appetite.

Fey basically leaped for joy when he pulled out a dented fry container from McDonald's. There were still a few mouth-watering, crispy, golden fries of godliness that remained within it, and Fey indulged in them instantly. He stuffed them into his mouth without a second thought, his hesitation gone when his hunger took over. They may not have truly satisfied him, as they weren't blood, but it still felt good to fill his stomach with something.

He dug around a bit more before leaving, finding a few more small pieces of food here and there.

It was then that he headed back to the park he'd passed by at some point: Rockefeller Park. It was incredibly vast, filled with gardens, a greenhouse, fountains, and even a large pond. He settled close to the pond, tossing his bag to the ground as he fell into a heap on the grass below. He stretched himself out onto the grass, sighing deeply as he closed his eyes for a few moments.

He continued to lay there, resting his exhausted body as he watched the sky begin to glow warm shades of oranges and pinks. The patterns of the clouds and the changing colour of the sky reflected off of the pond's surface. He swept himself up onto his side to get a better view of it, glad that the sun wouldn't be around to beat down on him until the morning of the next day. That, and the moon would make it's appearance soon.

Over the past three days, Fey had caught onto the fact that he grew irritable in the daytime and that when he was touched by moonlight, that it soothed him. The odd, warm glow that he would feel within him also happened only during the moon's appearance. He still didn't understand it completely, but what he did know was that moonlight 'healed' him, while going without it did dark things to him. He'd come to the conclusion that without moonlight, he would slowly fall into insanity – much like what had happened to him at the Badica's before he'd climbed out onto his window and felt the moon's light cure him of his craziness, snapping him out of his state and suicidal track of mind.

It made him consider switching to a nocturnal type schedule. But then again, humans were more active in the daytime, which benefited his hitchhiking needs and such... Either way, it wouldn't matter when he was going without blood. He would be exhausted, moon or not.

He sighed at the thought, sitting up and reaching for his bag. He unzipped it, pulling out some of the clothes he'd already worn. He didn't have many clean clothes left...

"What am I supposed to do?" Fey mumbled to himself, "Grab the nearest human being and feed from them by force? I'm not a strigoi..."

There had to be other homeless moroi out there. What did they do for blood?

Fey sighed again, taking his dirty clothes into a bundle in his arms. He carried them over to the pond's edge, cleaning them in it's water one by one. It would have to be good enough. When it was darker, he figured he'd probably wash himself too. His hair needed it. Though it would be incredibly cold.

"Maybe this isn't gonna work, after all..." Fey murmured, his words swallowed by the wind. The nights were becoming colder as November approached. But he was thankful considering it could've been worse. He could've been in Canada. But at this rate, it wouldn't be the weather that sent him home. It would be starvation. "I can't just waltz back there now... but then what can I do? This isn't looking good."

If it really, _really _came down to it, would he choose to forcibly drink from another over returning to the place he swore he'd never return to?

He frowned as he hung his clothes as best as he could on a nearby tree's branches.

Forcibly drinking from those around them wasn't apart of moroi culture. It was wrong. _So_, _so_ wrong. It was a strigoi sort of thing to do, even he knew that. Not that Fey had ever even met a strigoi... He only possessed as much knowledge as he did through books and word of mouth. He didn't think too much about them, asides from the fact that he was incredibly grateful that he hadn't encountered one in the three days he'd been completely vulnerable to them. It didn't help that he was staking out in a large city. Capitol cities especially were where strigoi apparently flocked, considering they blended in better there. The night life was best suited to them considering they couldn't come into contact with the sun and so assaulted their victims and moved about in the night.

_'Great. Yeah, just think about strigoi before you go to bed.' _

The boy sighed a third time, his mind becoming more doubtful of his choices until the moon rose and renewed his hope.

* * *

Fey's eyes flew open, the strangest sense that he was being watched startling him from his sleep. He leaped from where he lay on the grass, raising his head from his bag with a start as he frantically searched his surroundings and took several sharp breathes.

He easily could have been paranoid. That, or it was a result of his own loneliness. He'd read somewhere once that feeling lonely could subconsciously urge your conscience to make you feel as if someone cared enough about you to watch you.

But neither seemed to be the case.

It seemed somebody really had been nearby, as when he calmed significantly and laid the back of his head back down onto his bag, the tips of his hair brushed against something that rested at his backpack's side. Something that hadn't been there before.

Fey's head twisted around almost immediately, puzzled orbs taking in the grocery bag at his side that seemed chock full of food. A folded piece of paper rested on top of the bag's plastic surface.

The moroi sat back up, curiously taking the folded paper between his porcelain fingers. He hesitated, a furrow appearing in his brow before he gingerly unfolded it and read it's words with puzzled eyes.

_'I thought I'd save you from having to dive into a dumpster again. Bon appetit. _

_Oh, and PS: Compulsion can help you with your blood dilemma.' _

Fey clenched his jaw, his face heating at the words as a blush rose in his cheeks. "S-somebody saw that!?" he flushed in shame at the thought that somebody had witnessed him climbing through a dumpster for food like the pathetic nobody that he was. It wasn't for another few moments that the shame passed, and the remainder of the note truly clicked in and surprise overtook him.

He gasped, drawing the note closer to his face just to be certain that he hadn't misread anything. "Wait! Compulsion!? They know that I need blood! They're probably a moroi too!"

Vampires had a way of telling which vampire was what based on their features.

Fey stuffed the note into his jacket's pocket, realizing that his gloves also remained in there as he'd forgotten to put them back on after washing up. Eagerly, he reached for the grocery bag provided to him and peered inside once he'd placed it in his lap, his eyes practically sparkling when he spotted the blood bag carefully resting at the top of the pile of human food given to him.

He tore into it before even realizing it, his lust for blood so, so much stronger than his desire for human food right then. The last time he'd had any was almost ninety-two hours ago. He was so damned hungry.

The moment the crimson substance touched his tongue, he nearly gagged – unaccustomed to the texture and taste of cold blood. It was obvious that it had been refrigerated, and Fey would've preferred to drink it straight from the source. It was best that way, and that was what he was familiar with. But he was far too hungry to stop drinking now.

Normally he would've eaten without spilling even a single drop, but Fey found trails of the blood spilling down his chin at his greediness, impatience and utmost hunger. He tried to lick up what he could, unwilling to sacrifice even the smallest amount of precious blood.

It wasn't until he'd consumed every last drop that Fey tossed the empty blood bag back into the grocery bag, troubled. He continued to lick away at his lips and the inside of his mouth, which still tasted of the cold substance, wondering to himself who would feel the need to provide him with anything at all. He hadn't met a helpful human since Meia and her family. And if it was only because they were both moroi, than why didn't they stay to give it to him in person? Why help him, and leave without the credit?

It baffled him, but at least it was something he could be grateful for.

Thoughts that _did _remain with him, however, revolved around the advice given to him: to use compulsion in order to gain what it was he needed. He had to admit, it would make trekking across America a lot easier. He could command those around him to drive him places without hassle ; to give him food for free ; and most importantly, to allow for him to drink from them.

It would definitely benefit him... But even so...

Every vampire was capable of using compulsion, to some extent. Some had a stronger hold over it than others. But even so, Fey had never used compulsion on anybody before, and the thought made him feel rather uncomfortable. Compulsion was... immoral. That, and moroi were forbidden from using it in the first place. It was wrong.

_'So what? You'd rather turn back and live with the Badica's again?' _

He shook his head.

_'Cause that's what's gonna happen if you can't even rely on yourself. It's sad that you can't even support yourself with blood. Instead some stranger has to bring it to you.' _

Fey bit at his thumb, conflicted.

* * *

Fey had found himself walking the streets of Cleveland for the day, trying to clear his head and make up his mind. It was time for him to start making serious decisions, even if they were difficult for him to make. This wasn't a field trip. It was his life now.

If he couldn't handle it, then he needed to turn back.

"What do I do?" he cradled his arms behind his head, turning down an alley as he searched for a nice, quiet place to crash for the night. The building walls would serve to protect him from the wind that was growing ever chillier. Cleveland had even witnessed their very first snowfall of the winter earlier that afternoon, though luckily it had done nothing but dusted the city. It hadn't lasted long, thank god.

Fey hated snow, though he'd never really displayed how sour it made him.

It was pretty to look at, but when it fell especially, Fey could only find himself back in his room when he was eight years old, peering through the frosted window pane as he waited for his dad to return to him.

Snow had danced in the skies that night...

Ever since, taking in the sight of the snow as it gracefully drifted it's way down to the earth was nothing more than a painful reminder of how cold and lonely he was. He could almost feel it as the snowflakes would wrap their way around his heart, freezing him and leaving his heart cold and bitter.

But the dread at the winter that was to come was quick to leave his mind as he was suddenly driven into the alley wall, hitting the brick with a nauseating thud.

Fey's eyes fluttered at the impact, dazed as he struggled to make sense of what had happened.

His head spun, and he must have split his lip considering he could taste blood in his mouth. He struggled against the wall, realizing that he was being pressed against it by a weight that surpassed his own.

Fey thrashed against whoever had pinned him, shouting for them to let him go.

But they failed to oblige.

Panic struck him as he came to the realization that perhaps he was being attacked by a strigoi, and his struggles grew more desperate. At some point, his voice had completely cracked, melting into terrified screams as he kicked and swung his arms whichever way he could.

He yelped when his captor tugged at his hair, crying out soon after as he was pulled away from the wall and then forced to spin around so that he would have to look into the face of the one who was doing this to him. Fey was relieved when he realized he wasn't strigoi – but human. Though that didn't stop the human from posing a threat to him, regardless.

The man released his hair, leaving the boy whimpering as the scalp of his head continued to burn.

Fey cried out a second time as the man backhanded him in an attempt to shut him up, sending him to the concrete floor in the process. Fey hit it hard, gritting his teeth at the impact before cupping a hand over his sore cheek. He could already feel a massive bruise developing underneath his skin there from the powerful smack that had sent him to the ground in the first place.

He groaned, unable to pick himself up considering the human had swept down on him before he'd even recollected himself. Fey coughed at the swift kicks that pounded into his side, taking a moment to catch his breath when the human withdrew and instead tugged at his backpack and coat, forcing them over his limp arms.

"No... Please. Don't. That has all of my clothes in it..." Fey tried to weakly reach his arm out to stop him, but wound up screaming when his assaulter stomped a foot over his fingers, crushing them into the pavement. The leather gloves had protected his hand from being scraped, but it still burned intensely, either way.

He held back tears, managing to convert his agony into anger as he glowered up at the man through the pain as he continued to dig his shoe into him.

_'Rely on yourself. You need to rely on yourself!' _

If he was going to live on the streets like this, than he needed to prove that he could handle it.

Fey hissed through the pain, craning his neck around just enough to aggressively sink his fangs into the man's ankle. He shook his head in a way that tore at the skin and inflicted more pain. He withdrew as a piercing scream tore it's way through the man's throat, scared that the human would begin kicking at his head otherwise.

"W-what the hell!?" the man tripped as he tried to back away, watching with wide eyes as Fey weakly picked himself up from the ground, the human's blood gushing from his lips.

Fey understood that he was breaking oh so many rules in just that one confrontation, but now he also understood that he needed to do what must be done in order to survive. Life was cruel. He didn't necessarily wish to become just as ruthless, considering the whole point of running away meant not hurting anybody anymore...

But this wouldn't hurt.

"I'm sorry," Fey took a step closer, kneeling next to the human as he trembled underneath him.

Even after all he had done to him, Fey couldn't stop the guilt that coursed through him. The poor human hadn't even known what he'd gotten himself into.

Fey dove into the human's eyes with a steady, unfaltering gaze, commanding, "You're gonna let me drink from you. And then you're going to forgot about all of this."

The man blinked at him, a furrow appearing in his brow. "V-vampire... Wha-what the hell. I'm going crazy."

Fey frowned, intensifying his compulsion filled gaze as his tone grew more demanding. "I said you're gonna let me drink from you and then you'll forget all about this. Got that?"

Again, the man seemed to hesitate, which Fey only swallowed thickly at. He'd never used compulsion before, and he wondered if maybe his was incredibly weak. But that concern was gone when Fey watched as the man's eyes glazed over with compulsion. He silently obeyed, tilting his head in a way that exposed his neck for Fey.

The stern line that was Fey's mouth twitched at that. He was unsure of whether he was relieved or horrified that it had worked correctly. He felt sick...

He'd never imagined that he'd need to stoop so damned low...

Fey lipped more apologies, reluctantly making his advance on the 'willing' human before gently pressing trembling lips against the human's throat and breaking his fangs through the tender skin in order to draw the blood that he was in desperate need of.

His tongue responded the moment blood touched it and he closed his eyes as he hungrily lapped up the crimson substance, a sweet, muffled, sigh coming from him at how satisfying the warm blood felt in his mouth.

A pleasured look also lit up the human's facial features as he began to feel the overwhelming rush of drug-like endorphins that Fey's saliva contained.

Every moment of it was disgusting.

* * *

_Present - St. Vladimir's Academy, Montana – Age: 16 – Late October - Last Quarter Moon_

* * *

"I dunno... I mean, I'm really, really happy for Tenma. It's almost as if his life doesn't truly start until after graduation. And that's really exciting for him. But I'm also selfish..." Fey paused, tensing where he lay flat on the chaise. He took a deep breath as he joined his hands together over his chest. "The future terrifies me," he admitted with a weak laugh, trying to make it seem as if it weren't as big of a deal as it truly was, "I don't know where I'm gonna go, or what I'm even gonna do after graduation. St. Vladimir's has been the only place I could ever truly call home. But when I think about staying an extra year to do extra credit in order to postpone the inevitable for just a while longer, I realize that it isn't the academy itself that's my home..."

He took another deep, unsteady breath.

"I think about how Tenma's going to graduate, and I think about spending an extra year here without him and then realize that it just wouldn't be the same... I think... I think that _Tenma's _actually my home. I don't know what to do without him..."

Fubuki frowned where he sat nearby, asking softly, "Have you told Tenma this?"

Fey silently shook his head from side to side, biting at his lower lip.

"Do you _want_ to tell him?"

"I don't know," Fey shrugged against the chaise's surface, staring up at the ceiling with a lost look in his minty orbs. "I mean, if I told him, then he'd drop his entire future altogether. If he knew how I felt, I know that he'd promise to be my guardian just like that."

Fubuki raised an eyebrow, "Because Tenma doesn't want to hurt you?"

"I guess."

"But then what about the boy who he's already devoted himself to? If he chose you instead, wouldn't he be hurting him?" Fubuki asked.

Fey frowned. "What are you insinuating?"

A small smile crept over the surface of Fubuki's lips as he stated gently, "I'm not trying to insinuate anything. I just want you to be certain that the issue doesn't actually reside within you. Are you afraid that Tenma would sacrifice his future for you, or is that what you're telling yourself because it keeps you from telling him anything in the first place. That way you can avoid what it is that's _truly _holding you back."

Fey's stare left the ceiling as he craned his neck around to meet the eyes of the other, his brow twitching faintly "What? What do you mean? You think I'm _scared _to tell him? Is that it?"

"I don't know. _Are _you scared, Fey? What is it you think you're afraid of?"

The moroi boy's facial features tensed as he sat up, dangling his legs. He opened his mouth and then closed it, conflicted when he couldn't figure out whether he wished to protest or maybe admit that Fubuki was right.

Fubuki's eyes were filled with such kindness as he encouraged him, "It's okay, Fey. Go ahead. Say what's on your mind. There are no right or wrong answers."

Fey bowed his head, gripping at the edges of the chaise as he admitted quietly. "I honestly don't know."

"Based on what you've told me about your past," Fubuki began carefully, his facial features becoming significantly more serious at the delicate subject, "I know that you spent a lot of your childhood on your own, as others often... _rejected_ you." The therapist paused for a moment, looking for any changes in Fey before continuing, "Could it be that maybe... after so much rejection, that the thought of Tenma telling you that he can't be your guardian would be too much for you to bear?"

Fey stared into his lap with a hard gaze, wishing he hadn't processed such words. They hurt more than he ever realized they would.

He simply sat there silently as Fubuki eyed him, patiently waiting for a response to the difficult question. He rubbed a sleeve against the eyes that had begun to burn as he continued to peer into his lap, leaving the chaise as he stood to retrieve the duffle coat he'd hung up.

"Fey, where are you going?" Fubuki's eyebrows knitted together in a concerned fashion, "I think it would be best if we continued to talk."

Fey did his coat up, approaching the door. "I just remembered that I have to reply to an email." It technically wasn't a lie, but it was definitely a weak excuse.

"Fey, you can't keep running away from your issues like this... That's not a solution."

"Then it's a good thing I don't have any issues to run away from," the greenette faked a smile, appearing cheerful on the outside despite it being obvious to Fubuki that that wasn't the case at all.

"Is that what you actually believe?"

Fey left the office on that note, leaving Fubuki to watch after him grimly.

* * *

Fey stared at the laptop screen, reading and than re-reading the message from the so-called Alchemist repeatedly. He hadn't responded just yet, and wondered if maybe he should get Tenma's opinion on the matter first. He couldn't help but to continue feeling a bit wary of the email.

"What's the worst that could happen if I merely replied?"

Fey licked at his lips in concentration, clicking the reply button and then typing what came to mind.

* * *

_To: RedLagoon_

_Subject: Lost Mirror_

_Thanks for getting back to me. I'm more than aware of Alchemists and their duty to protect the secrets of the vampire realm. I'd love it if you shared information that you and / or your connections may know of the subject. Could you forward book titles if you possess that sort of knowledge as well? When I'm at it, could I ask you if you know Prince Asurei Badica? I think that he may have some sort of connection to the mirror somehow, and I was wondering if you maybe knew anything about this? Please advise._

* * *

Fey leaned back into his chair, crossing his arms over his chest as he cocked his head slightly and read over his email a few times before sending it.

He had no idea when he'd get a response from this 'Red Lagoon,' but he was definitely more than curious about it. He was interested, and held high hopes, in receiving the information that he'd spent so many years trying to obtain. That, and he was also curious about the alchemist who would hopefully provide him with the answers he desired. The last alchemist he'd met... well, she'd hated his guts, to be frank. He supposed he couldn't blame her after the trouble he'd caused her back in New York City...

Then again, she would've disliked him either way because of him being a moroi at all.

"That's why this alchemist is so unsettling... It's more than obvious that I'm probably either a dhampir or a moroi. Why would they be so interested in helping me? Do they want the mirror too? But then why would they need my help in getting it if they already had the information they needed?" He closed his eyes, pressing his lips together in thought. "It's so suspicious."

Maybe that was why he was so curious about it. It felt adventurous, in a way.

Either way, he didn't know when he'd be hearing back from this 'Red Lagoon' again and so shut the lid of his laptop and shrugged it off for now. He'd check his email again before bed or something.

In the meantime, Tenma had promised him that he would help him out with his usual self-defense practice. Afterwards, they had a sort of ritual where they'd kick around Tenma's soccer ball. Fey always looked forward to it, and the two tried to make time for it at least three or so times a week. They'd been doing so since the same year they'd met, and Fey could confidently say that his muscles were nicely toned because of it. His strength had improved significantly, though even he had to admit that there was still no way that he'd be capable of taking on either a trained dhampir, and definitely not a strigoi.

But that was okay. Being a spirit user, it wasn't in Fey's nature to fight.

He'd simply taken up the hobby after his spirit teacher had told him of strigoi healing, and that he'd need to have both the muscle and skill with a stake in order to penetrate a strigoi's chest deeply enough to strike their heart. He didn't know if it would ever prove useful, but if he ever had the opportunity, than he'd be more than glad to help. Spirit users were rare, and he'd hate to waste his gift when he was one of the only people capable of saving a strigoi's tormented soul.

With that sort of motivation in mind, Fey headed for the Guardian's gym. Tenma had begun to spend the majority of his time there in order to practice for his upcoming field exam, so Fey assumed that must have been where he was. Fey didn't want to interrupt the hardworking dhampir's training, even for their 'ritual' of sorts, but he figured that Tenma would be in need of a break by this point anyway.

The moroi stopped by the caf first, picking up a drink and a few snack foods that he knew Tenma liked. He left hurriedly, trying to ignore his own hunger when he knew that the feeding room was only a few feet away. He used the dread of seeing that woman feeder again to mask his hunger, testing which of the two were stronger before leaving for the guardian's gym.

Fey walked into the gym, realizing that it was completely empty, asides from the pair of novices – one of which being Tenma – who had set up a mat at the back wall. The moroi cringed at the loud echo when Tenma's ginger haired sparring partner was flipped onto the mat's surface loudly.

"Ouch, I never saw you as the type to play rough, Tenma," Fey approached the two gingerly, clenching his jaw at the bruises that covered the skin of the both of them. He offered his free hand to the dhampir who'd been knocked to the floor, asking, "Are you okay, Taiyou?"

The ginger haired dhampir, Taiyou, took Fey's hand with a groan, "This is nothing! You should see our actual classes." He paused, smiling as his eyes looked Tenma up and down. "But Tenma's getting a lot stronger."

"Fey!" Tenma greeted him happily, balling his hands into fists excitedly, " You should see what Taiyou can do too! We're gonna pass this exam no matter what!"

Fey hardly knew Taiyou on a personal level. He'd sometimes join him and Tenma during lunch, but overall, the time Tenma spent with Taiyou was either during practice or through their classes. Asides from that, all Fey really knew about him was that he seemed like a decent guy – cheerful, optimistic, playful. But what was heard most often about him weren't his accomplishments as a novice or the fact that he was a nice person... Fey would often hear whispers in the halls, and catch onto the vicious rumours that revolved around him.

Nobody thought that Taiyou had what it took to graduate. They were surprised he'd even passed his Sophomore interview and hadn't been kicked out of the program.

Fey didn't judge, nor did he care whether the rumours were even true at all or not, but apparently... Taiyou was addicted to moroi bites. He was a blood whore, and people said he'd been such his entire stay at the academy. Some said he'd probably been bitten by a strigoi at some point, and couldn't shake their more addictive and potent endorphins. Others said that maybe a moroi at home had started his addiction, like a family member. The other stories they'd come up with were either sickening or completely and utterly ridiculous.

As Tenma did, Fey simply looked past all of that, upset that somebody who beamed like the sun in human form was being subjected to such cruelty. Others would have flocked to him, if not for their closed minds.

"Tenma, I brought you some snacks and a drink," Fey smiled as he handed them to Tenma, "I didn't know that you'd be practicing with him, Taiyou, so I hope you guys don't mind sharing."

"Wow, thanks, Fey!" Tenma beamed down at the goodies, seating himself on the mat's surface as he and Taiyou hungrily picked at the variety of food that Fey had stored on a plate for them, "You came all the way here to do this for us?"

Fey grinned sheepishly, "Please think of it that way? But, I came to make sure you weren't pushing yourself. That, and I was wondering if you could watch me and give me pointers when I practice stabbing at the dummies."

Taiyou laughed. It was a nice sound. "That's sure a way to put it. I'd be more than glad to help too, if you needed it."

Tenma nodded, "You know I'd be more than happy to, Fey! We'll both help you! I guess it's been a few days since we last did this, huh?"

"That's okay – you've been busy preparing for the exam and stuff." Fey peered back down at their bruises again, reaching out to take Tenma's hand flat into his palm. As Tenma's eyes jumped up from his food to look into Fey's eyes in surprise at the sudden touch, Fey placed his second hand flat over Tenma's knuckles, focusing on healing the brown haired dhampir of the harm done to his skin. Judging by how vivid the discolouration of some areas was, some of the bruises were a few days old.

"Fey-" Tenma tried to snatch his hand away when he realized what it was Fey was doing.

But the spirit user cut him off, squeezing his hands gently around the dhampir's in order to communicate his desire for Tenma not to pull away from him. "I want to." He said simply, his fingers tingling with the warmth of his healing magic.

"But they're just bruises. They don't even hurt," Tenma assured him, though it was a meaningless battle by this point, now that the bruises had just about vanished from the surface of his skin. "Besides, I don't want you to push yourself. Shouldn't you conserve your strength? Isn't there gonna be a new moon soon?"

Fey inhaled and then exhaled sweetly as he admired his work, releasing Tenma's hand as he asked Taiyou for permission to touch his hand next. The ginger haired dhampir looked over at Tenma uncertainly, unsure considering Tenma seemed so disapproving. Tenma merely shrugged, concern written in his brow. But Taiyou obeyed when Fey gave him an encouraging look.

"I still have just a bit over a week before the new moon," Fey confirmed, "You shouldn't worry so much. It won't make a difference if I'm using my magic by this point. I have plenty more days to heal myself in-between. I'll be prepared."

Tenma frowned, "Sorry, I'm just worried because it landed after the start of the exam, so I might not even get to be there for you this time... I already feel awful that I might miss your birthday."

"I guess it all depends on the moroi you end up with, and what it is they want to do," Fey pressed his lips together, displeased that he'd be spending both his birthday and the day of the new moon with a novice he'd hardly even know. But there wasn't anything either of them could do about it, and the last person Fey ever blamed for such circumstances was Tenma. Tenma was always there for him, and Fey was almost glad that the brunette would land a break from him and focus solely on passing his exam, which would in turn guide him to his dream. "But I'll be fine." Fey smiled, "We can celebrate my birthday together sometime before. Halloween, maybe? We were gonna have a sleep over, right?"

It was against dorm rules for a dhampir to spend the night in the moroi dorms and vice versa, but it hadn't stopped anybody before.

"That's a great idea! I'll bring a cake and your gifts with me then!"

Fey beamed, redirecting his attention to Taiyou before asking, "How does that feel?" He withdrew his touch. The bruises had been far more noticeable on the fairer skinned dhampir, but now there wasn't even the slightest hint that they'd been there in the first place.

Taiyou looked himself over with a fascinated look gleaming within his teal pools. "I've heard about what you can do, but to actually see it..." he met Fey's eyes, seeming to see right into him with such refreshing authenticity. "You're amazing."

"Really, it was nothing," Fey said, feeling a bit embarrassed. Though even that couldn't keep the thoughtful smile from his lips in response to the compliment. He may have been modest about what he could do, especially with those he didn't completely trust, but he appreciated the kindness either way.

Before Taiyou could say otherwise, and before Tenma could join in, Fey stood up from the mat and wiped at his white leggings, and then his shorts. He shrugged off the vest he'd worn overtop of a black and white skater shirt, grabbing for the practice stake that lay on the mat's surface. "C'mon, are you guys gonna teach this moroi how to stab some strigoi or what?" He quickly added as he approached one of the many practice dummies used for teaching the novices how to stake properly, "Just let me know how I'm doing from there! Eat first!"

"I'll watch, but I don't think you'll need my help," Tenma mentioned as he bit into one of the snacks Fey had brought him. "Your form and execution have been perfect for the longest time now."

It was true. Fey couldn't even recall the last time Tenma had given him any pointers. For the first while, Fey would merely watch as Tenma would display to him what he knew. Asides from that, the moroi had set himself up with some weight training in order to tone his muscles.

As Tenma entered his sophomore year, his own skills became more polished and he began to teach Fey by actually having him attempt it. Tenma would always correct his stance, or tell him to work on certain aspects of the staking. He'd been incredibly clumsy, now that he looked back. Apart of him had also liked the attention. But now he was running out of excuses for the dhampir to continue teaching him. Fey could still remember how astonished he'd been to feel so comfortable with such closeness. It'd been the first time in years that Fey had been completely and utterly open to touch.

"Well, I'd hate to go rusty without your guidance and than lose form," Fey mocked a look of upset, lunging forward as he struck the dummy with his practice stake, flawlessly jamming the stake through it's pretend ribs and sternum in order to penetrate the heart.

Tenma clapped as Fey continued. "Rusty? Long as you keep at it, that's not gonna happen."

Taiyou nodded his head in agreement. "Yeah, not even some of the novices can strike like that yet. Especially for a moroi, I'd say you're definitely talented at it."

"Maybe I should reconsider and see if they'll let me in the novice's program than," Fey teased, wiping the sweat from his brow with a smirk. His eyebrows furrowed at his next lunge when a wave of dizziness overcame him and his vision blurred for the fraction of a second. He nearly stumbled, but managed to keep on target, getting the stake through with an extra twist before catching himself. It seemed he'd appeared natural enough considering Tenma and Taiyou didn't comment on it.

Fey frowned.

Normally, he wouldn't have felt this tired already. He was just getting started.

Fey shook it off.

He leaped forward, his hand tight around the practice stake as he repeated the same execution as before a few more times. His blows were still just as impeccable as the ones before it, but he couldn't seem to shake the light-headedness.

Something wasn't right.

Just as he turned from the dummy and prepared to make his way over to Tenma, teasing that he must have been rusty after all to have grown exhausted so quickly, the stake dropped from his hand and hit the floor with an echo, rolling across the gym's polished surface.

Fey's body was next to hit the floor as he blacked out, the alarmed voices of Tenma and Taiyou the last thing to fill his ears as he faded out into nothingness.

* * *

_Note: Cara means 'Beloved' in Italian, which I thought really suited Meia and Giris considering they represent love. Hence why I thought they should have a daughter with a name meaning such. _

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**Thank you so much for taking the time to read! =) I hope you enjoyed and will continue to read! I lose motivation and get discouraged, if not for lovely readers.**


	4. Fey Rune

**Hello again! I just wanted to thank all who review, and take the time to read my story! I hope everybody enjoys! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Inazuma Eleven or Vampire Academy. **

**Warning: T for Strong Language, Violence, Blood & Gore, and Torture . Also Trigger Warnings for later.**

**Pairing: Eventual SaruFey. I tried to leave other pairings (such as Fey x Tenma & Tsurugi x Tenma) open for the readers to interpret how they'd like.**

* * *

**Chapter Four – Fey Rune**

* * *

_Present – Atlanta, Georgia_

* * *

Minamisawa sighed as he entered the lounging area, rolling his eyes slightly at the boy who sat cross-legged at a nearby couch, his fingers strumming across the keys of the laptop that sat on his knee.

"What are you up to this time?" Minamisawa raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile finding it's way to his lips as he threw himself into a chair that stood next to a table. He sat down into it backwards so that he may face the snowy haired boy, wrapping his legs around it's back support, and then laying his arms over the top of it's frame. With a toss of his hair, he added, "You better hope the boss doesn't find out this time."

The white haired boy smirked, spinning his laptop around so that Minamisawa could take in the picture displayed on it's screen, "I assure you that browsing the tripadvisor website is completely harmless."

"What, are you planning on taking a vacation or something?" the dark raspberry haired boy tilted his head to the side teasingly, "Do I feel sorry for whichever hotel you've set your sights on, Saryuu."

"It's for nothing more than future reference," Saryuu brought his laptop back around to face him, his eyes redirected from Minamisawa and back to it's screen as he began to scroll through the site some more. He added as he began to type what was possibly the address to a new web domain, "I thought I told you to call me Saru?"

Minamisawa rolled his eyes a second time. "_Saru, _don't tell me this 'future reference' has something to do with that moroi you're obsessed with? You know the boss would kill you if she found out you're making arrangements with him behind her back."

"As a matter of fact, she assigned me to him herself. You're too new to know, but she's had me keeping an eye on him since my awakening five years ago. As long as I deliver him to her alive, then the two of us will be just peachy." he laughed – a kind of musical sound that made it difficult to interpret whether it was genuine, brought about through frustration at what he said next, or perhaps it was even a warning. Saryuu possessed a dangerous glint to him and was almost always impossible to read. "Since he decided to stay at St. Vladimir's, it's made my job a tad bit tedious, however."

"Then just wait for him to graduate," Minamisawa mentioned with a sigh, running a hand through his strands of hair that had been carefully tended to, "I thought the boss didn't want him until he was eighteen, anyway?" Minamisawa sighed again when he watched Saru's lips twitch up into a mischievous smirk. "You were never planning on a pick-up and delivery job. I know what you're like. You're gonna have your own fun with him first, aren't you?"

That dark laugh filled the room again. "You know what I'm like? Oh, you don't even know the half of it." He paused and Minamisawa watched as the light from the laptop's screen cast shadows across Saryuu's face, changing in both brightness and colour as he opened a new tab. "I've already made my first move, and it seems the boy has already moved us along a stage."

Before Minamisawa even had the chance to ask for details, Saryuu filled him in, a smugness radiating from him as his eyes remained glued to the laptop screen. He read over an email, his smirk growing as he spoke, "I figured if I couldn't contact him directly, that I'd send him an email instead. He made it an easy task for me to track him down on the net. Now the bait's been set, and I just need to hope that it will work to lure him from those wards. It might take some time. I know that they have their winter break once the field exam is over, so I'll be sure to sway him by then." A dark chuckle followed his words. "He already responded, so I suppose I'd better start showing him my charming side if I hope to see him before Christmas."

"Just be careful..." Minamisawa stood from his seat. He seemed somewhat disapproving, but he was loyal – or at least as loyal as he _could_ be - to Saryuu regardless, "If Garsha or Vanfeny found out about this, they'd do what they could to use it against you in a heartbeat."

Saryuu mocked offense, "I didn't know there was something so wrong with meeting the boy I've looked out for all these years. You could say I'm his guardian angel." He shrugged his shoulders, a smile returning to him as he continued, beginning to sound both amused as well as cheeky, "If the boss is going to be so stingy with him, than maybe she shouldn't have told me so much about him in the first place."

He shut the lid of his laptop, setting it on the couch. His earlier amusement left him as he met Minamisawa's eyes with an unfaltering glare. "The only way that Garsha and Vanfeny would ever find out would be if somebody were to tell them." His eyes narrowed. "Considering I'm the one who reawakened you, I'd like to say that I trust you, but frankly enough, I don't. I don't trust anyone. So read my lips, Minamisawa: I don't take betrayal well. You don't even want to imagine what the conclusion to that story would be." He smiled, a sudden change that made him all the more intimidating. "Are we clear?"

Minamisawa crossed his arms over his chest, swallowing thickly. Before he was given the chance to respond, however, a groan from the other room caused the both of them to raise their heads.

Saryuu's alertness was quick to die as he propped an elbow against his leg, letting his cheek fall into his palm as an annoyed sigh escaped him. "Fantastic, the human's awake."

As if on cue, the human's groan was followed by piercing, frantic screams.

"Oh god! Please! Help! Somebody! Help me! Get me away from these freaks! Help! Help!"

Minamisawa pressed his lips together at the sounds, rolling his eyes.

"You just had to pick out the annoying one, didn't you?" Saryuu gave the raspberry haired boy a dangerous smile, "He's your responsibility, so could you please shut that fat ass up? He's beginning to make my ears bleed."

Running a hand through his hair, Minamisawa obeyed, leaving the room they had turned into their lounging area and making his way to the room where the human was being kept. The human was fairly obese and wore a mess of purple hair on his head. Dry blood trailed down from his forehead and down the left side of his face. He had begun to rattle at the bars of the cage that he was being imprisoned inside, but was quick to back away towards the rear of his prison when he noticed Minamisawa walk in through the doorway.

The room was engulfed in darkness, nothing but the artificial light from the other room flooding in through the doorway and highlighting the raspberry haired boy's back. It made him appear all the more intimidating.

Minamisawa's red tinged eyes struck the other coldly, looking the startled human up and down with a frown. He slowly approached the cage, wrapping his fingers around it's steel bars as he peered inside.

"Amagi, was it?" his voice sounded almost as amused as Saryuu's when he spoke, and he tilted his head slightly, lips parted just enough to reveal his fangs as his red orbs seemed to glow through the dimness of the room, piercing the human even from where he cowered a few feet away.

"L-leave me alone! Please don't hurt me!"

Minamisawa merely snickered, watching as the human grew more uncomfortable with the wordless response, his knees shaking so badly that he was surprised the human could still stand at all.

"Just let me go! What do you want!?"

Saryuu called from the other room in a musical, faintly sarcastic tone, "Some of us would be quite pleased if you decided to shut up!"

Minamisawa took the comment as a hint for him to hurry up with it, and so let his hands fall away from where they'd snaked around the bars. He pushed himself up from his slouch against the cage, opening it up. It rattled loudly, and Amagi screamed as the boy slowly made his way over to him.

With zero hesitation, Minamisawa's balled hand flew into the human's stomach. Amagi struggled for breath as he sagged to his knees, clutching at his large stomach as he cried out in pain. Minamisawa then yanked him by the hair roughly and then forced his head to the side before plunging his fangs into the human's throat, messily drinking from him as streams of blood splattered to the concrete floor below...

* * *

_Present - St. Vladimir's Academy, Montana – Age: 16 – Late October - Last Quarter Moon_

* * *

_'Fayah...' _

The voice was so distant. To the point where he easily could have been imagining it. Yet Fey identified the voice regardless, his eyes fluttering at his father's familiar voice. His eyebrows knitted together, a quiet groan leaving his lips as he stirred slightly, coming to.

He felt a comforting warmth surround him, his eyes continuing to flutter with the hazy belief that when they opened, they would blurrily take in the face of the father who sat at his bedside, watching over him. He was there... He could feel him.

_'Fey, please... please take care of yourself. I can't be there for you, but...' _

"Papa?" he called out groggily, eyes flying open as he turned his head to the side against the soft surface of his pillow. His eyes blinked confusedly when he took in the concerned face of not his father, but Tenma Matsukaze.

His groggy disorientation left him as he peered around the room, recognizing the interior of St. Vladimir's infirmary. He lay in one of the medical room's many beds, and he could feel the shame rush him at the way he'd let himself call his dad's name like that. He tried not to let his eyes flicker away in unease, instead pressing his lips together as his orbs could merely give Tenma a pleading look. A look that pleaded that Tenma hadn't heard him in his moment of both confusion and weakness.

Tenma's eyes filled with both sympathy and relief as he spoke softly, reaching out to take Fey's hand and give it a light squeeze. "Fey..." he smiled weakly, "I'm so glad you're awake."

The greenette frowned, unable to recall losing consciousness in the first place. His mind remained slightly fuzzy, and it made it difficult to remember much of just about anything right then. "Why am I here?" he asked, looking around the infirmary again. What the hell had happened to send him to the medical centre? "What happened, Tenma? Did I pass out?"

"You don't remember?" the worried crease in Tenma's forehead grew deeper as he paused. Hesitantly, he continued with a slow nod of his head. "Yeah... You, me and Taiyou were all in the guardian's gym. You were practising against the training dummies, and then before the both of us knew it, you'd fainted."

Fey vaguely remembered at the reminder, recalling that a sudden dizziness had swept over him.

Tenma added, "Taiyou stayed with you for a while too. But he's gone to bed now. It's pretty late. I was getting worried that you may not wake up until the morning..."

"How long was I out?" Fey gave Tenma a concerned look of his own, "What time is it? You didn't need to stay the entire time..."

"You slept for the remainder of the afternoon. It's night now. But I wouldn't have been able to sleep worrying about you anyway," Tenma smiled, "Besides, Fuyuka gave me permission to stay even past curfew."

Fey realized that it was true when he looked over towards one of the windows and took notice of the golden rays of the sun that just barely peeked through the closed curtains. The moon's absence left him feeling a bit dismayed.

The moroi pressed his lips together in thought, touched that Tenma had stayed by his side this entire time. His minty orbs drifted down to their joined hands, a small, tired smile making it to his lips. He was also relieved that Tenma hadn't said anything about the way he'd called for his dad.

"Fey?"

Tenma and Fey raised their heads at the voice that sounded from the infirmary's doorway. They watched as Fubuki, Fey's therapist, hurriedly made his way to Fey's bedside.

"So you're finally awake," Fubuki knelt beside Tenma's chair and in front of the moroi's bedside, but then seemed to notice that he may have interrupted a talk between the two friends and said, "Oh, I'm sorry, Tenma. But would it be okay if I talked to Fey? I didn't mean to interrupt."

Tenma smiled warmly, squeezing at Fey's hand before attempting to withdraw it, "Fubuki's been in and out all day, checking up on you. He's been worried about you."

But Fey lightly tugged Tenma's hand back when he tried to take it away, shaking his head against the pillow's surface, "No, please stay." He looked over at Fubuki, "Tenma can stay. I don't mind."

"Of course..." Fubuki nodded at the boy thoughtfully. He then turned to Tenma, asking him questions about Fey's health: asking when he'd woken up and how he seemed ; until eventually he told the dhampir that he was such a good friend to Fey and that it was very kind of him to support the spirit user. It was then that he turned to Fey and began to question him, asking him how he was feeling and what he could remember.

Fey pushed himself up into a sitting position, finally releasing Tenma's hand in the process. But it was reassuring to know that he was nearby, regardless. "I feel fine now," was Fey's reply to the questions as he tried to reassure the adult with a soft tone and a small smile. "I'm just tired."

"Do you know _why_ you're tired?" Fubuki began. His tone wasn't sharp at the emphasized question, but more so concerned. A sad look crossed the older moroi's facial features as he gently sat down on the edge of Fey's bed, seeming to wait for him to respond. But when he didn't, Fubuki's facial features saddened more so. "Fey... The nurse told me that apparently she checked with the feeding clinic staff, and they said that you haven't been to feed in the past few days... That's probably why you fainted."

Fey's eyes widened at the unexpected comment, a quiet gasp escaping him as his mind froze despite his need to create any sort of excuse. He gulped, staring into his lap as his hands curled around his blankets. It made him feel all the more uncomfortable when he knew that Tenma's shocked eyes looked him over, wondering why he would do something like that. What was he supposed to say? His reasoning had been stupid. Even he knew that... and yet...

Fey opened the lips that had been pressed tightly together, shaking his head from side to side as he frantically tried to explain himself. "I-I don't know! I guess I just haven't been hungry! I haven't really been feeling well, so..." he trailed off, balling his fist tighter and narrowing his eyes in frustration at his inability to lie convincingly.

"Fey..." Fubuki reached out to touch his arm, "I'm really worried... I'm in no way accusing you of anything, but you wouldn't necessarily notice, so I just need to be sure. It isn't your fault. But do you think that spirit may be the cause of this? You haven't been avoiding the feeders because you're trying to harm yourself, are you?"

"What!?" Fey laughed bitterly, protesting more desperately afterwards as he took in the look on Tenma's face. The dhampir looked so distraught... so upset that he hadn't noticed any of this. Fey wanted to re-take his hand and tell him that nothing – absolutely nothing – was ever his fault. He wanted to heal him of whatever it was he felt. "Tenma... I promise I wouldn't do that. I've been coping with spirit well lately! I promise I'd say something if I wasn't."

Fubuki knew that the words that had come from Fey's mouth were his true feelings. He was being completely genuine, and yet Fubuki couldn't just simply shake it off and leave it be. Spirit was capable of effecting him without his realization. Fubuki couldn't take any risks, especially when Fey's health was on the line.

But it was Tenma who beat him to speaking first.

"Fey, I believe you," an earnestness burned within his silver eyes as he stood from his seat, sitting on the bed's edge next to Fubuki. The brunette took Fey's fingers into his own, his gaze steadily remaining on Fey's before he craned his neck to peer up at Fubuki, asking sincerely, "I'm sorry, but is it okay if I talk to Fey alone? I think that he must have his reasons for what's happened."

"Is that what you'd prefer, Fey? To talk about this with Tenma?" Fubuki cocked his head at the other, accepting whichever choice would make the spirit user most comfortable.

Silently, Fey nodded his head. He already felt rather guilty for walking out on the therapist that morning, but he hoped it wasn't insulting for him to admit that he trusted Tenma to a far larger extent then he did him. Fubuki made him feel comfortable, but not the way that Tenma did. It was still difficult for him to speak with Tenma, even, however. He never liked worrying the other, but he'd realized that he'd made Tenma more worried by leaving this be. He didn't want Tenma to concern himself, wondering if spirit was messing with his head as usual, when really Fey was avoiding feeding for his own personal reasons. He hadn't wished to disclose them, holding himself back even when he'd desired to tell Tenma. But he supposed it was too late to create excuses for himself... Tenma deserved to know. He'd looked over him this entire time he'd been unconscious.

"Fubuki?"

Each head within the room swivelled towards the doorway, taking in the form of the professionally trained guardian who stood there. He waved Fubuki over, and Fubuki stood from the bedside.

"C'mon, Fubuki. Get to bed. It's late," the guardian, Someoka, said firmly.

Fubuki placed a hand on Tenma's shoulder before following after Someoka, speaking encouragingly, "Take care of him for me, Tenma." He looked towards Fey next. "Rest, Fey. I'll see you in the morning, and we can talk then. Okay? Before I go, I'm also going to talk to Fuyuka and ask her to bring in a feeder for you once you've had your talk with Tenma. You need the energy."

With that, the moroi left with the guardian, leaving both Fey and Tenma alone in the dimly lit room.

Fey could feel his stomach flutter with nerves and he took a shaky breath, nervous to share his explanation with the dhampir. The more he thought about how he would word it, the more stupid he felt it would sound, either way.

"Fey..." the greenette's heart jumped and he could feel his nerves race ever the more wildly at the gentle call of his name. "What happened to make you think that you should stop drinking blood? Have you really just been feeling ill?"

"No..." Fey admitted quietly, feeling the squeeze of Tenma's hand as he encouraged him to continue, "I wanted to tell you, Tenma... I really did... but I guess I was afraid of seeming like a bit of a downer after you had that amazing day with Kyousuke and his brother. I was so happy for you, and -" he trailed off, realizing that his desperation to explain himself to Tenma was making him ramble, "I guess I just made you worry anyway..."

Tenma gave him a reassuring smile, "Either way, I'm here to listen now. I don't want you to hold these sorts of things in, no matter what. I'll always listen, and I won't ever think you're a 'downer' or anything like that. You're my friend, Fey. And friends are always there for each other, through both the good and the bad."

"Thanks, Tenma," Fey squeezed back at Tenma's hand at that, seeming significantly brighter as his nerves were numbed out by Tenma's compelling compassion. However, he shied away from Tenma's eyes for a moment as he peered down at their joined hands, feeling Tenma's presence supply him with the courage he needed to tell Tenma his feelings. He wanted to tell him. Giving himself one last push of encouragement, Fey re-met the dhampir's silver orbs, "I think I'm ready to tell you..." Fey paused, the two of them sharing an unwavering gaze with one another. The mere look in Tenma's eyes was enough to tell him that Tenma was silently encouraging him.

Despite finding the determination, Fey hesitated nevertheless. Old habits were difficult to break. "R-remember the day I was late for class? The day you found me asleep on the courtyard fountain?" He continued once Tenma gave a tiny nod. "One of the feeders... well, I guess you could say I've been avoiding her..." Tenma frowned at that. "Apparently, it turns out she knew my dad in the past. My mom too... and I just don't know how to face her. It feels too awkward."

Surprise lit up the brown haired boy's face as he exclaimed, "So she knows who you are!?"

"No," Fey responded calmly, despite the situation, and despite the dread that the reminder reawakened within him. He could feel it as his insides twisted together. "I know that it's stupid, considering she couldn't possibly always be there. But whenever I thought about going to the feeding room, I chickened out... It didn't matter how hungry I was. I'm a coward... I can't face her."

"Fey... you're not a coward. You should've told me about this earlier... I can't stand to know that you've been hurting like this," Tenma gave the moroi a small, tender smile that sent a rush of warmth into Fey's heart, "You don't need to be afraid of her, not if she doesn't know who you are. But if that's how you feel, then I'll help you through it. I'll go with you to every one of your feedings if it helps you feel better about facing her."

Fey's smile began to tremble at the sheer amounts of delight that overtook him at such words, the warmth within his heart spreading throughout his entire body. Minty orbs filled with intense fondness as he displayed his utmost gratitude and shaken emotions through their locked eye-contact. Apart of him wanted to protest, and to tell Tenma that such a thing wasn't necessary while the remainder of his emotions were far too touched to say much of anything.

He swallowed thickly, placing his second hand over the knuckles of the tanned hand that was already sheltering his other one, sandwiching Tenma's hand between his palms. Tenma really was the dhampir destined to be his guardian... the only one. Fey could feel it in that moment.

Never would he feel this way towards any other.

* * *

_Four Years Previous – New York City – Age: 13 - February_

* * *

_'I'll only use compulsion if I absolutely need to.' _

He hated compulsion. He hated it so much. He felt so disgusting and plagued with guilt whenever he used it. He couldn't even remember how many times the line, 'I won't ever use it again' had drifted in and out of his head. But after three months of homelessness, he'd already long ago lost track of how many times he'd used it against those around him. It had become some sort of necessity; a way for him to get exactly what he wanted without the hassle.

Using it only when needed had quickly escalated into using it until he somehow sorted himself out.

_'That's right... I'll just stop once my situation changes.' _

That was how he would comfort himself as he would force himself into a human's mind, leading them to some obscure location before sinking his teeth into them and help himself to their blood; That was how he would comfort himself when he walked into either a restaurant or a variety store and convince the cashier that he didn't need to pay for their products ; or when he would compel somebody to drive him places because he was too impatient to wait around at the side of the road and hitchhike.

_'It could be worse.' _Another excuse to help him feel better about himself. _'I could still be killing people back in Colorado.' _

As much as he detested how low he'd been forced to go through the harsh lifestyle he'd chosen, Fey would be a liar if he didn't admit that he was somehow content currently.

He hadn't hurt anybody in months, and he'd been living on the opposite side of the US for at least a month now. If anybody really was looking out for him, the news hadn't yet reached New York City. After what had gone down in Cleveland, Fey had used compulsion to slowly hitchhike through Pennsylvania, eventually reaching the prospering city of NYC. After travelling through so many different places, Fey could confidently say that he hadn't been more satisfied then he was with New York. He'd become so familiar with it now, making his home in an abandoned apartment there. There wasn't any heat or electricity, but with the bone-chilling winter weather, he was glad to find an enclosed space to find shelter within at all.

He easily could've compelled some weak-willed human to let him crash at their place, or to let those looking for rent to let him stay for free, but Fey had decided that even he wasn't willing to go that far quite yet. He still held onto a fraction of his humanity, determining that he wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he went that far.

For now, this crappy, desolate apartment room was his home.

He peered around at the few belongings that he'd obtained – that being a small coffee table ; a worn out barcelona chair that he used to sleep on ; a few tattered and torn paintings that hung on the wall that was just as tattered ; a couple of blankets ; and a few fictional and non-fictional books. Luckily for him, the apartment room also had a fireplace built into it prior, which he had to start up with matches and such of course, but so long as he could keep warm.

The flames danced in the moroi's eyes as he held his outstretched fingers towards the fire, feeling it's warmth soothe them of the chill they bore. The gloves that he always donned his hands with lay on the floor next to him. They didn't do much to keep his hands warm throughout the winter, but they were at least keeping his dark touch from ruining the lives of others. With them, he was in control.

Or so he hoped. He mostly avoided touch, regardless. And even after all these months, he still couldn't connect his strange ability to perform such horrors on others to his affinity to the moon. Over the past three months, he had at least grown more accepting of that, catching on to smaller details, such as how he could perform all sorts of magic only in the presence of the moon.

He could heal himself of the irritation and depression that tended to bother him in the day once it was night, and he had also managed to bring up another one of those sorts of force fields that he'd generated the night Marcella's guardian had attempted to lock him away in a cage. Fey still hadn't figured it out completely, however, as the only magic he could perform at will were his healing abilities.

He was growing far more familiar with them, but Fey couldn't deny the mysteries that remained...

With that in mind, the young moroi flipped through one of the books he had borrowed from a nearby library, licking his lips in concentration as he flipped the page. It sat on his lap, and he would only remove his hands from the fire in order to switch the page.

It was a story about a poisonous apple and a magical mirror. A mere fairytale. Not what he was looking for at all.

"Dammit," Fey sighed, closing the book shut and then placing it on top of the coffee table.

A few other books that revolved around magical mirrors sat on it's surface, but he didn't feel quite up to looking through them after suffering so much disappointment after the first ten or so he'd already skimmed through.

Fey didn't think he'd ever need to recall the pathetic excuse of a magical mirror that his father had given him before disappearing like the unreliable parent that he was. But about two months back, the moroi had gained a new interest in the Moonheart mirror, feeling the first surge of regret at breaking it... since... well for the first time ever.

Since becoming more accepting of his affinity with the moon, it had struck Fey that his father must have somehow known about his powers considering the mirror he'd bestowed upon him had ironically been named 'Moonheart.' Apparently, it was supposed to have protected him. He wasn't sure if maybe he was taking too far a leap of faith, but he couldn't help but wonder if maybe it had been meant to protect him by boosting his lunar abilities somehow. But how exactly was it possible for his father to know of his abilities at that point in time? He hadn't shown any signs of them... had he?

Needing answers, he'd been dedicating a lot of time to researching what he could about magical mirrors.

A distant part of his mind even told himself that maybe through such research, he could find something out about his father: about where he had gone and why he had left. Though his love-hate would always push the thoughts down, trying to squash them as he convinced himself that his father most likely left because he was afraid of his strange, unheard of moroi abilities as well as his unconnected dark touch of death.

He'd left because he was scared.

No... Looking for any sort of legend about the mirror wasn't for his father's sake, but entirely for his own.

Slipping his leather gloves over his hands, Fey smothered the fire out and then swung his backpack over his shoulders as he prepared to head out before the evening rolled in and the air grew even colder. Despite New York City's night life, Fey hadn't adapted to a nocturnal schedule, instead sticking to a daytime one. The nighttime may have proved easier for sneaking around and compelling people, and it would have been more useful considering he felt more alive in the night, but he figured it was best to stick with his current time schedule for the future. If he ever left New York City, other areas may not have been as active during the night, and he would be lacking people not only to feed from, but to hitch rides from as well. The brisk winter nights were already reason enough for him to stick to staying where the sunlight could give him some form of warmth. Plus, it would seem rather suspicious for a kid to be wandering around at night...

"What to pick up...?" Fey brought an index finger to his lips as he left the apartment room that had become his home, opening the door and than closing it behind him as he wandered the eerie halls. Parts of the walls had peeled away, and it was incredibly dirty. But it was home, either way. An incredibly lonely home... but that was okay. He didn't need anybody. "Hmmmm, I guess I should pick up some more water and little things to snack on. But first, I'll have some blood."

Being so preoccupied with his books, he'd completely skipped lunch and was only now realizing just how hungry he was.

Once making it outside, Fey flinched at the icy wind that the tall skyscrapers created wind tunnels for, snuggling into his parka as the freezing winds seemed to tear right through him.

Shaking it off, he stumbled through the shallow amounts of snow that covered the streets, bitter that the winter brought along snow at all. Snow brought him nothing but memories he'd much rather forget about... At some point, as much as he'd miss NYC, he planned on maybe heading down to Florida. At least there, he wouldn't have to deal with snow so much.

It took several minutes for Fey to reach livelier streets, as the abandoned building was located in a secluded, rundown area. Mostly other homeless citizens and junkies who were in search of a private space to use for their next fix were located down there, so it was always a rather quiet walk. It was a place to be avoided.

The thought of maybe drinking from such people had crossed his mind once before, as the drug-users could simply mistake him for a hallucination from their high, though the thought of drinking blood contaminated with drugs and alcohol was a little gross... He also wasn't entirely sure if the tainted blood would effect him in some way, and he figured he'd probably end up puking all the blood up anyway. Fey had come to the conclusion that he'd stick with what he felt comfortable with, as much as he regretted subjecting the innocent to his compulsion.

With a few deep breathes that sent a frosty vapour into the air, Fey left the safety of the alley way that he'd cut through, joining the vast crowd of people that lined the busy streets. He did his best to keep from breaking out into a nervous sweat at the slight Claustrophobia he suffered at his fear of touch, cramming both hands into his jacket pockets as minty orbs darted for the human who would be his target. He looked out for anybody he could easily approach, somebody who loitered the walkway, or somebody who stood in line at the hot dog stands. In such a large crowd, he wouldn't bring any suspicion upon himself either way.

Once he picked out a red haired woman who stood at the corner of the next block who'd jammed a cellphone into her pocket after having just finished up with it, Fey gulped and then approached her after willing his nerves away as best as he could.

"Ummm," he tapped the woman's shoulder, forcing a pleasant look over his face before locking eyes with her. Confident that she would be locked within his compulsion at their fixed gaze, Fey spoke nonchalantly, "Follow me."

The ginger haired woman blinked confusedly, a crease appearing in her brow as she rose an eyebrow at him in what appeared to be irritation. "Huh?"

Fey took a step back, eyes fluttering in fear that he'd had bad enough luck to choose out a strong willed human right off the bat. He swallowed thickly, feeling it in his chest as his heart sped up slightly. He attempted a second time, narrowing his eyes as if doing so would overpower her. "You're going to follow me."

Often, there would be those who were strong willed enough to resist him. But never had he faced a human who seemed so completely unaffected by it. Often, there would be those capable of shaking it off after being drawn in by it, but it didn't seem he'd be able to penetrate this woman's mind period. He wouldn't even be able to compel her to forget, giving him enough time to leave before they managed to shake it off again.

"Uh..." Fey backed off some more as her face twisted further, a disapproving facial expression washing over her at his second failed attempt to pry into her head. "Never mind. Sorry, I thought you were somebody else."

He spun on his heel, preparing to be swallowed back up into the crowd, when suddenly he was jerked backwards at the tug of his arm, nearly falling backwards. He managed to catch himself, a strong hold spinning him around as he gasped.

"It's you, isn't it!?" the red haired woman from before crushed his arm in her grip, leaning in close and whispering sourly at him, "It's freak'n you!"

"W-what?!" the words tumbled from Fey's mouth as he was overcome by both shock and confusion. What the hell was she going on about? It was the moroi's time to feel puzzled at her actions. Did she know him from somewhere or something? He opened his mouth to throw questions at her, though only gasped again when she began to drag him through the streets. Fey's arm burned at the amount of force used, and he figured it would be best for him to accept where it was she was taking him rather than fight against her.

He'd get himself out of this somehow, even if he had to bare his fangs and scare her as a last resort. The moroi did feel a bit uneasy knowing that his compulsion had zero effect on her, however...

Turning down an eerie street, the woman finally released his arm and shoved him towards a wall, cornering him there. "I know what you fucking did!" she placed her hands on her hips, raising her voice at him angrily, "You don't think I recognize compulsion when I see it, huh, punk?"

That was when the alarms in Fey's head lit up, panic coursing though him as his eyes widened and his breath hitched in his chest. He could feel a cold sweat break out over his forehead as he clenched his jaw, mind racing. He needed to get away from her... Somehow, she knew what he was.

Having been frozen in place since she spoke, Fey suddenly ran for it, hoping to break past her. Though her reaction time was quick. She pushed him back into the wall, pulling her cellphone out from where it had been stuffed into her pocket. She flipped it open, clicking in a phone number. Drawing it to her ear as she awaited a pick up, she muttered, "You're in so much shit."

Fey peered around with wild eyes, trying to think up some way for him to escape. It was still daylight, which meant there was no possible way for him to bring up a barrier to defend himself with... It didn't seem he'd be able to overpower her physically either... Unless he bit her? But she knew what he was... She'd be expecting that.

The only other way was...

He glanced down at his gloved hands, shaking his head wildly.

No way. Never again. Not for anything.

_'Yeah, but humans have been working with strigoi lately! What if she's one of those sorts of people!? You want her to hand deliver you to the strigoi buffet, is that it?' _

No... No, he was just panicking. There was no way he'd rely on something so horrible. It wasn't a gift. It was evil. He wouldn't use it, even if he died in the process.

He shuddered as she spoke into her phone, "Hey. It's Midori." She paused. "You won't believe who tried to compel me today." She paused a second time. "Yeah. It's him. Send whoever deals with this kind of crap my way, k? I'm not a babysitter for moroi."

When she disconnected, a faint huff coming from her, Fey shot her a cold look, "They'll never give you the immortality that you want, you know."

Maybe he could distract her and whoever was to meet them here for a long enough period of time to allow him access to his powers? What sort of moon was it supposed to be again? Would it rise within the sky before sunset? Or would it's absence remain until past midnight? Or would there be any moon at all? What if the snow clouds were too thick? Or what if there was a new moon? He'd already experienced a few, and they seemed to leave him feeling more and more miserable with each passing one. It was almost as if his affinity with the moon was continuing to grow, and wasn't fully developed yet. It was becoming more painful when he was forced to part with it, because of such. It was strange... but it would be enough to defend himself against a human being, either way.

Midori, apparently, laughed bitterly, crossing her arms over her chest, "Are you kidding me? You think I'm working with the strigoi?" She laughed some more, mocking him obviously. "I'm an _Alchemist_, you idiot. I work_ against_ the strigoi, if anything. Well, if you'd call disposing of their evil bodies such, anyway."

"Alchemist?" Fey wasn't familiar with such a term. If she thought she could fool him, than she had another thing coming. Though despite his distrust, his gut told him that she was telling the truth.

"Yup: Alchemist," Midori rolled her eyes, irritated with the very sight of him it seemed. "See this?" she gestured to a golden flower tattoo that marked her left cheek. It's fancy golden lines blended in nicely with her tanned skin. Fey examined it, the first time he'd taken a good look at her face at all. "It's a tattoo that you could say is our mark. It's a charm that gives me extended life. I don't need any strigoi bullshit. Plus, it keeps me immune to illness. It's granted to us by your people, and in exchange we devote our lives to protecting the secrets of your world. The vampire world."

Fey's eyebrows knitted together in confusion, his tone sarcastic as he responded with his own irritation in tow. "Protect us? I don't call this protection. I'm a moroi, you know."

Her dark green eyes narrowed, and her mouth formed into a tight, serious line. "We don't protect moroi specifically. Isn't that the job for dhampirs or whatever?" Midori's tone was sharp when she spoke, "Whatever. You're all the same to me. What we protect are your _secrets. _We make sure that humans don't find out about you or your culture."

"I still don't see what that has to do with the way you're treating me. Sure, I tried to use compulsion on you, but..." He trailed off, knowing that what he had done was wrong. He'd been caught red handed. But so what? What could they do to him just for that?

"Are you retarded!?" Midori may as well have slapped a palm to her face, that bitter laugh returning to her. She refused to continue until her laughter faded and she recollected herself, an intense seriousness hanging heavy in her words as she spoke carefully for him. "Firstly, I thought that using compulsion was forbidden in your culture? Though that isn't my business, and frankly enough, I don't care. What I DO care about, however, is that I and several other Alchemists were ordered to this shit bin because of several disturbances caused by a moroi who would use compulsion on humans. But guess what? Here's the big surprise: the idiot who's been stirring up all this trouble has some of the shittiest compulsion I've ever seen, because the humans who were compelled remember it well enough to go to the cops and state that they'd been attacked by some crazy kid. Thus, the vampire world's threatened." She shook her head, huffing again. "You're so damned lucky that they were so doped up on endorphins, and that you took enough blood to keep them from remembering your face clearly, at least."

Fey's heart stopped cold in his chest, his eyes left fluttering in shock.

He'd always known that what he was doing was wrong... so, so wrong. But never had he imagined that he was ruining other people's lives... He thought that ordering them to forget once he'd taken his fill had done the trick. Sure, he'd seen his compulsion shaken before... but...

It had never occurred to him that they would fuzzily remember what had happened. Clearly, they didn't understand it the way that Midori did. They didn't know of compulsion... but even so. He could only imagine how deeply he had traumatized those he'd fed from.

"A-are they okay?" he finally managed to find his voice, though it cracked as he spoke. His guilt felt so much more overwhelming as he let it all gush out at how royally he had screwed up this time.

Midori's eyes softened somewhat when she shrugged, "Dunno. It's not really my concern."

Before either of them determined whether they had more to say at that time or not, the chime of Midori's phone snapped them away from the heavy atmosphere that surrounded them. She answered immediately, eager to hear progress of what she had requested, it seemed. Fey wondered what that was, exactly. What would happen to him now? He'd deserve it, whatever it was. But that didn't stop the emptiness within him from sending painful pangs of depression throughout him. He'd finally started a new life... It'd been snuffed out so quickly.

"What are you talking about!?" Fey's head snapped up to watch as Midori yelled into her phone. "They can't get down here until tomorrow? Why does it have to be them anyway!? I don't want to spend the night with a _vampire, _thank you very much. It's either you tell them to get their asses down here, or I can hand him over to somebody else!" She paused as the other replied to her. It took several long moments before Midori sighed heavily, seeming to give in when she finished the conversation with a, "Yeah, alright. I'll do that."

She ended the call, placing her phone back into her pocket as she looked Fey up and down with another sigh. "C'mon," she gestured for him to follow her, "We're gonna book a room at a hotel."

She moved aside, giving him enough room to walk past her.

Fey gripped onto the straps of his bag, cautiously walking ahead of her as she directed him where to go. He forced himself to ask as they turned around the corner, making it back out into the crowded walkway, "What's gonna happen to me now?" He wasn't sure if he even had the right to ask such a thing after hurting people all these months. And what about the people back in Cleveland? And the ones in Pennsylvania? Had they awakened from his compulsion also?

Midori shrugged, keeping a hand firmly on his shoulder as they made their way through the crowd. The last thing she needed was for him to make a break for it. She'd read the way his posture had lost it's will to fight her, and that he was obviously feeling bouts of guilt, but she wouldn't risk it just in case. "I dunno. Is there a such thing as vampire juvie?" It seemed she was joking, though her voice didn't give such away.

Fey's hands left his bag straps, meeting at his stomach as the fingers of his right hand curled around the fingertips of his left. His eyes grew more sad and his frown deepened.

"Was there anything you needed to pick up from your place before we go to the hotel?" Midori asked, squeezing at his shoulder as if her voice wouldn't have been enough to reach him.

Fey thought about it for a moment, slowly shaking his head from side to side as he murmured, "No... All I need is what's in my bag."

So what? If they wanted him to pick up his things, did that mean he wasn't allowed to go back otherwise? Where would they take him? A pit of nerves settled within his stomach at the obscurity that surrounded his future. It had always been shrouded in darkness, but this time, Fey had truly believed that he was in control ; that for once, he could steer himself in the direction that he wanted his life to take. Not that homelessness was what he'd wanted, but at least he'd had freedom. He'd also been too preoccupied taking care of himself to think all too much about the hole in his heart that only his papa could fill. And most importantly, he'd thought that he didn't need to hurt anybody anymore.

Continuing the remainder of the way in silence, Midori and Fey reached a hotel. Midori always kept the moroi close, unwilling to let her eyes leave him for even a second. He was basically a criminal, he now realized, so he was being treated like one.

Midori had guided him over to the receptionist's desk as she booked a room for them, standing behind him as her hand remained over his shoulder.

Once given a key and such, the two took a mute elevator ride. Fey didn't really mind. He took the time to peer around, fascinated by the enclosed space that sent small vibrations through him as it moved. He'd always seen elevators in movies and on tv shows, but he couldn't remember ever actually being in one. Though it wasn't only that. The hotel in general left him feeling fascinated despite his situation. He couldn't remember the last time he'd spent a night in such a clean, elegant place. The polished floors basically glittered, and the warmth that the building provided was soothing for his cold bones and worn out body.

He may have been fine with his nutrition over his past few months of homelessness, but it was almost painful how much he stuck out when placed within luxury. Compared to his sparkling surroundings, he looked no better than any other homeless person. His coat was beyond shabby, as were the clothes underneath it, and he was dirty and in desperate need of a shower. It had become difficult since winter had settled in, and he'd only washed himself up when he had the opportunity to sneak into schools and malls to use their facilities.

He couldn't keep from feeling self-conscious.

When Midori swiped their keycard into their correct room, Fey hung up his coat and kicked off his boots as they walked inside. He looked around, astonished as he took in the room and all it had to offer. There were lamps, a mini kitchen and mini fridge, a TV, and most noticeably a bed. _A freaking bed_.

"Hmmm," Fey began timidly, standing in the centre of the room as he continued to admire it. His eyes eventually wandered to the bathroom, hovering there as the thought of taking a nice warm shower consumed him. The temptation was too much. "Would it be okay if I took a shower?"

Midori threw herself onto the couch, giving him an uncertain look before reluctantly agreeing. "I guess you can. There aren't any windows in there, so it's not like you can runaway..." she pressed her lips together as she paused. "But don't you even _try _or think upanything funny. Don't take any longer than fifteen minutes, got it? Otherwise I'm gonna check up on you to make sure you're behaving."

Without wasting even a moment of precious time, Fey bolted to the bathroom. Midori had demanded that he leave the door unlocked, so he did so, quickly peeling his tattered clothes from his frame and throwing his dirty, porcelain skinned body into the showers warm rush of water.

He flicked his head, sighing at how so incredibly amazing hot water felt against his dry, winter-abused skin and his greasy strands of hair. He didn't want it to end, and so savoured every single second as he rubbed shampoo through his hair and ran his fingers along his wet skin.

Even once it was over, he felt content simply by the way it made him feel so completely refreshed and clean. He'd forgotten how rejuvenating it felt.

He frowned as he dried his hair to the point where it only remained slightly damp, peering down at his clothes. Fey didn't want to put them back on, seeing as how they would make him feel dirty all over again. Instead, he grabbed at the white bathrobe that the hotel had supplied within the bathroom, finding that it felt so soft and snug against his skin.

The moroi folded his other clothes and stuffed them into his backpack, carrying it out of the bathroom with him.

Thoughts preoccupied with what sort of exciting activity the hotel would open up to him next, Fey didn't even expect it when he opened the bathroom door, the cooler air rushing into the steam filled bathroom when Midori suddenly knocked him to the ground, pinning him there as she followed after him.

She grabbed for his wrists before he even processed that he had hit the ground, capturing them both above his head with only one of her hands. She positioned her knees over areas of his legs that left them held in place against the tiled floor. Before Fey could demand to know what it was she was doing, his eyes caught sight of the syringe that she held in her other hand.

His eyes widened, his mouth silently parted in bewilderment.

"I'm sorry, kid." Midori's face tensed. "But there's no way I'm spending the night with a conscious vampire."

Before he could say a word, Midori threw her arm forward, plunging the head of the needle into the skin of Fey's arm. The moment the injection's contents hit his bloodstream, Fey's vision began to blur and his mind fogged over. He tried to fight against it, mumbling something even he couldn't make sense of before being pulled down into the depths of unconsciousness.

* * *

Fey's eyelids felt heavy as they reluctantly fluttered at the muffled noises around him, drawing his eyebrows together at the strange humming-like noise that reached his ears. The sound of a rumbling engine?

The greenette groaned softly, woozy and so incredibly disoriented as his hand twitched against an armrest and his eyes fuzzily took in the window that his head leaned against. The sky was a vivid shade of blue, and beneath it were a blanket of fluffy white clouds.

Wait... what?

Clouds?

Fey shot up straight in his seat, wild eyes examining the interior of what must have been an airline. He was on a plane!? He also took in the frame of another who sat in the seat next to his. A second person sat in one of the chairs in the row across from theirs. Asides from that, the remainder of the seats were empty. Whoever these people were, they'd quickly realized that he was awake.

The last he remembered was being reprimanded by an alchemist named Midori... Where was she? Who were these people? He tried to remember the latest memory that he possibly could, jumping from his seat as his brow twitched uncertainty and his jaw clenched.

"What's going on here?" Fey watched the two carefully with narrowed eyes, his distrust evident in his voice when he spoke. "Who are you people? Where's Midori?"

The young adult who sat next to him was the first to speak. His hair was a dark shade of brown and the most notable feature about him was the orange headband that hugged around his head. His eyes were the colour of dark chocolate as they seemed to radiate with a degree of friendliness. Fey remained cautious, regardless.

The second man sat across from them, his arms crossed over his chest. His dreadlocks were a lighter shade of brown than the other, and a pair of sunglasses with lime coloured lenses covered his eyes, leaving them unreadable as his lips remained in a tight line across his face.

The both of them were clad in black – the darker haired male covered in a black leather jacket with an orange t-shirt underneath, while the other had donned a black long coat with a white collared shirt.

Based on what he could see, they were dhampirs... Guardians, maybe?

"Calm down, everything's okay," the dark haired one directed a smile that was supposed to be reassuring, he figured. But it didn't work. "I know you must be confused."

"_Everything's okay!?" _Fey mimicked the words angrily, "You're not the one who doesn't remember how the hell he ended up on a plane to who knows where. I was happy in New York City, thank you very much."

The dark haired one was the one to respond again, and he placed a hand on Fey's shoulder in what must have been another failed attempt to comfort him. Comfort through touch was entirely foreign to him. He went to swat the hand away, but pulled back with a gasp before crossing his arms over his chest tightly through obvious uneasiness at the sight of his bare hands.

He swallowed thickly at the situation, asking in the quietest voice he'd used thus far. Both his tone and stance made him seem so vulnerable compared to the cold, distant boy they'd witnessed only moments ago. "W-where are my gloves?" His fingers squeezed at his elbows desperately.

God, he didn't want to hurt anybody anymore... Oh God...

The man raised an eyebrow, puzzled at the boy's urgency. Looking into the palm of his hand as if looking out for poison coating it's surface, the dark haired dhampir let his arm fall back to his side as he answered, a faint hint of uncertainty in his voice. "Really, you don't need to be so frightened. I'm sorry that we startled you..." he paused, "The woman you were with – Midori Seto: it seems she'd drugged you the night before. Though don't take it too personally. Alchemists don't trust vampires like us. It's the morning of the next day now, and when we came to pick you up, you were still unconscious. So we took you as you were. But when she handed you over, she also gave us a bag. I placed it at your feet. Maybe your gloves are in there?"

Fey grabbed for his bag, sitting back down into his seat as he rummaged inside for the leather gloves that kept those around him safe from his touch of death. He pleaded that they would be there, holding his breath until he exhaled in relief, pulling them from his bag's depths and tugging them over his fingers.

At the dhampir's explanation, he could vaguely remember booking into a hotel room with Midori... Maybe he'd taken a shower? He felt rather clean... He peered down at the clothes that he wore, realizing that the sweater he had on was also clean. He'd also washed his clothes? He couldn't remember clearly enough...

Either way, he wasn't all too surprised that Midori had turned on him. She'd been cautious of him since they'd discovered one another. According to the dhampir who sat next to him, that was a trait shared with several of the alchemists.

Frowning, Fey asked, understanding now why he felt slightly more high strung than usual. He'd missed the moon entirely, out cold for the night. "So you guys wanted to take me from Midori? Why? Are you the ones who deal with moroi who break the rules of our culture? Who are you? Where are we going?"

"That's a lot of questions coming from a mysterious moroi who created chaos in New York City," the second dhampir finally spoke, his tone sharp, "How about you start by answering us first? What's your name? From the information given to us about your case, it seems you were homeless? If you ask me, you seem an awful lot like a runaway."

Fey refused to speak, suddenly worried that they somehow knew who he was. Did they suspect him? Had he even been reported missing? The dread ate at him.

Luckily, the friendlier dhampir intervened.

"C'mon, Kidou," he began, "He's just a kid. He deserves to know what's going on."

It seemed this 'Kidou' let the dark haired dhampir have his way considering silence from him followed.

The dark haired dhampir took that as his opportunity to continue, wishing to enlighten the greenette. "I'm Mamoru Endou," he smiled, jerking a thumb towards the second dhampir, "And he's Yuuto Kidou. We're both guardians from St. Vladimir's Academy. We were asked to take custody of you, so we're heading over to Montana."

_Endou_... That had been Natsumi's surname... It wasn't her maiden name either, as she had celebrated her wedding the same year Fey had done the unforgivable to her. For now, Fey brushed it off as mere coincidence.

"Montana?" Fey repeated. But then there'd only be one state in-between him and Colorado. He was completely backtracking! And what was this about St. Vladimir's? Why would he be taken to a school? Was that who Midori had contacted? It could've been worse, so he didn't want to complain, but he knew relatives that attended that place. There was no way he'd keep his identity a secret if he was taken there. What was it they wanted anyway? For him to enroll?

Endou nodded, "Yeah, I know it's quite far from your home in New York. But it's better this way. It's too dangerous for a moroi to live like that. Humans are ignorant of us. If they'd caught you, or if somebody had remembered you well enough to describe your face, then they would've locked you away without being able to understand your intentions. If it hadn't been them, then it would've been strigoi to find you first. But don't worry." He went to touch Fey's shoulder again, which Fey shrugged off. The dhampir didn't seem to take offense. "You don't need to worry. You're not in trouble. If anything, we were more worried about your well-being. Besides, stories from New York were fast to reach the academy, and you have a few people who are interested in meeting you."

What? He wasn't in trouble? Based on the way Kidou or whatever his name was had spoken to him, Fey truly doubted that. "You don't need to sugarcoat anything for me..."

"Endou never goes back on his word," Kidou said, almost as if he were also trying to comfort the greenette. Fey was a bit surprised, to be honest, wondering if the more serious dhampir should be reanalyzed. He wasn't easy to read.

"Don't worry, Kidou, he'll see when we get there."

With that, Endou backed off. The silence didn't last for long though considering they'd seemed to reach their destination only moments later.

Fey gazed through the window at his side, watching as they steadily descended. It took a few minutes before the ground was visible enough for him to realize that all that surrounded them were miles upon miles of towering trees and snow dusted mountains. It was beautiful.

Nearing the ground even further, Fey noticed what must have been St. Vladimir's Academy. It looked like some type of Victorian-like castle. It was definitely impressive when compared to the places Fey had inhabited as of late. If not for his nerves, than he would have felt excited at getting to see the inside of it.

When they left the interior of what must have been a private plane owned by the academy, Endou took Fey's bag and carried it for him, guiding him down the steps until their feet met the ground and they made their approach towards a car that awaited their arrival, preparing to take them through the wards and to the academy itself. Fey craned his neck around to watch behind him before he crawled into the car as a few others swept in to deal with the maintenance of the plane and such.

Fey climbed into the back of the car. Endou followed in after him, sitting next to him again as Kidou sat in the passenger's seat upfront. The driver, a moroi with red hair and black framed glasses, greeted them before starting the car up. They shared a vague conversation – one that revolved around Fey mostly, though they seemed to be talking in code, so Fey tuned out as he stared through the window. He could feel Endou's eyes on him, but tried his best to ignore it.

He didn't tune back in until their car lurched to a stop at a gate. The red haired moroi rolled the window down, leaning out of it slightly as he let the guard know who it was who needed to pass through the ward that was meant to protect the school from strigoi.

"I'm back," the red haired moroi spoke to the guard, "Endou and Kidou are also with me. They brought back the boy."

After a few more exchanged responses, the gates opened and the car passed through, bringing them to the academy's secondary campus' entrance.

Before leaving the car, Fey took a look at the academy's traditional, gothic architecture from the car window with fascinated eyes. It was like nothing he'd ever seen. The skyscrapers and the view of Lake Erie back in Cleveland had been a sight to see, as were the many sights he'd witnessed in New York City. New York was especially beautiful when the night time lit everything up, making it seem as if the entire city glowed. But this was breathtaking in a completely different way.

When they left the car and neared the academy's entrance, Fey hugged his arms around himself in an attempt to keep warm. All he had on was a sweater and a pair of jeans. He had no idea what had happened to his tattered parka. Maybe Midori had thrown it out after witnessing it's condition. He would've liked to snuggle into it right then, noticing that Montana was a bit more brisk than NYC.

Once inside, he rubbed his hands over the surface of his arms before removing them from around him, fighting away shivers before opening the eyes he had squeezed shut. He didn't know what to take in first, his minty orbs overwhelmed with the sheer elegance that surrounded him.

But the greenette didn't appear to have as much time as he would've liked to process everything, as Endou and Kidou guided him along. He didn't know where they were headed from there, but he obeyed them, shaking his head at the way he'd become so captivated when really, he wasn't there to admire their architecture. He'd broken several traditional rules that the moroi took extremely seriously. He'd hurt people. He'd been collected and brought here against his will because he was in trouble.

What was worse, they could very well know that he was the missing boy from the Badica family. Maybe it was obvious... Maybe they'd even return him to them.

As such thoughts plagued his mind, they wandered through empty halls and Fey realized that the school must have gone by a nocturnal, vampiric time schedule. The other students wouldn't be up until the evening.

Eventually, the three of them entered a room. After glimpsing around, Fey determined that it was some sort of office... There was a desk, a few chairs, a couch...

Two moroi seemed to be waiting for them in there, sitting at the desk as they chatted to one another. They turned their heads as the three of them entered the office, greeting both Endou and Kidou cheerfully before seeming to stare Fey up and down.

The attention given to him through their curious eyes made him feel uncomfortable.

One of the moroi, a male with a white long sleeved shirt, steel blue hair and hazel coloured eyes directed a smile at Fey, and Fey couldn't keep from feeling that the moroi saw right through his discomfort and was trying to maybe reassure him. The second moroi, another male with a red blazer, platinum blonde hair with azure coloured highlights, and dark eyes simply observed him calmly. He was adorned with fancy looking jewellery and several different ear piercings.

He definitely looked to be a royal.

The royal looking one met Endou's gaze, tilting his head, "Is this the boy?"

"Yup," Endou turned to Fey, gesturing a hand out towards the two moroi, "Don't be shy. These two have been waiting to meet you. This is the academy's therapist, Shirou Fubuki, and this one here's the headmaster, Shuuya Gouenji. They're both friends of mine, and they're really nice. They just want to talk. Is that okay?"

Fey wondered if he actually had a choice, though slowly nodded his head up and down in agreement. He didn't feel all too thrilled with having him speak with a therapist though... They didn't even know him, yet they'd already judged that he needed psychiatric help? Then again, the fact that he'd used compulsion so recklessly all these weeks was probably enough to concern even the most patient therapist... Still, to bring him all the way here from New York, Fey couldn't help but feel that there had to be more to this than what was being told.

"You wanted to talk to him first, right?" the moroi with the platinum hair, Gouenji, turned to Fubuki.

Of course. Of course it would be the therapist to speak with him first.

Fubuki waved a hand at his younger as the others had begun to leave the office -which he now knew was a therapist's office. Before disappearing through the door, Endou patted his shoulder, removing it before Fey could reject his touch this time. "Don't worry, you'll be fine."

Rubbing at his arm nervously, Fey hoped that was true as Fubuki invited him to take a seat across from him.

He heard Gouenji's distant voice tell somebody to 'make the phone call,' wondering what that meant and whether it involved him or not as he sat down, hesitantly meeting Fubuki's welcoming eyes.

Fubuki began casually, his tone pleasant, "I know this must seem bizarre right now, and I'm sure you're wondering what's going on, but I hope you understand the alchemists' concern. They only felt that they needed to get you off the streets because they saw you as a threat to vampiric secrets."

"Get me off the streets?" Fey's eyebrows drew together, "So I guess I'm not allowed to go back?"

Fubuki gave him a thoughtful look, "We can talk more about your options later. Right now, how about you tell me your name?"

Fey's heart fluttered in his chest. He couldn't exactly tell them that he was Fayah Badica. He wouldn't go back to Colorado if it could be avoided. He only hoped Fubuki wasn't testing him. "I'm Fey," he said, leaving it simply at that.

Fubuki made no arguments at his lack of a surname, though Fey figured that would come once the pleasantries passed. "Fey?" Fubuki repeated the name with a smile, "It's nice to meet you, Fey."

"Likewise," his enthusiasm didn't match the older moroi's, though Fubuki didn't comment on it.

Instead, Fubuki's kindness never faltered as he carried on. Fey didn't know whether to gradually begin letting his guard down at that, or whether it gave him all the more reason to keep it strong. Apart of him couldn't deny that Fubuki seemed nice. It almost reminded him of the way Meia had treated him. But even so, that'd been months ago. He'd rarely had positive contact since, instead fabricating all interaction with compulsion. It made him wary.

"Tell me a little bit about you: How old are you? When's your birthday? What's your favourite colour? Is there anything particular that you really like to do?"

Fey thought about it for a moment. He knew that he'd need to change his birth date. It would be far too suspicious if he shared the same birthday as Fayah Badica. They'd put the pieces together, if they didn't already have a hunch on who he was. He contemplated on changing his age, also, but wound up telling them his real one in the end.

"I'm thirteen," Fey said, fiddling with his fingers. "My birthday's on July fourth and my favourite colour's red." He mentally slapped himself at the way his voice had shook when he'd stated his false birthday. His lying could use improvement. Maybe the therapist would take it as nothing more than simple nerves. "Hmmm, and hobbies? I dunno. I guess I read books sometimes."

"That's nice. Books can be quite interesting." Fubuki gave him another soft smile, complimenting him, commenting on his answers and throwing him a few more casual questions before asking,"Fey, is there anything you can tell me about your family? Why were you alone?"

The greenette wrapped his arms around his chest, as if protecting himself from the questions that made him feel uneasy. He would have remained completely silent, though figured he could keep it vague. If he gave them a hard time, than he figured it would take longer for him to find out where he was going from here. It didn't sound like he'd be returning to the streets. They wouldn't let him. He was glad considering he'd never meant to hurt anybody. At least he wouldn't have to do such anymore... He'd never use compulsion again. He hated it so much.

Even so, what would happen to him now? Where would he go?

Fey shrugged his shoulders when he replied, his eyes drifting down into his lap. He couldn't look into Fubuki's eyes as he admitted to such painful memories in a murmur. "I'm alone because my family hates me..."

Fubuki frowned, knitting his eyebrows together as he carefully asked, "What do you mean your family hates you? You can tell me anything. This is between just you and me. Nobody else needs to know what is said within this room, okay? So don't hold back."

Despite the encouragement, Fey hesitated, his facial features tensing faintly as he continued to avoid Fubuki's eyes. He'd never had to share anything about himself like this before. Nobody had ever cared to listen, and now that somebody was proving otherwise, it felt as if it was too late for him. It was all so discomforting. Speaking this way at all was strange... but to share his _feelings_? And what about his strange abilities? It was normal for a moroi to specialize within a certain element and become capable of magic, but his abilities were different. He was a freak. He'd never openly talked about them before, hoping that maybe he could simply run away from them so long as he continued to wear gloves over his hands.

Fey merely shrugged.

"You don't know? They just make you feel that way?" Fubuki tilted his head, a sympathetic look swimming in his hazel orbs.

"I don't really want to talk about it..."

Fubuki nodded his head in acceptance, "That's okay. It's been a long day for you. We can talk more about that some other time. I suppose it'd be best for us to talk more first. I want you to trust me before we talk about anything that may make you feel uncomfortable. For now, I suppose it's safe to assume that you're on bad terms with your family?"

"...I don't see them as my family."

Fubuki took that as a 'yes,' dropping the subject. He prepared to move on to Fey's compulsion use, planning to ask him how it had made him feel. But he found himself looking up towards the doorway of his office at the voice that sounded from there.

"Sounds like a dark story. Oh, but isn't family always?"

Fey twirled around in his seat, taking in the intruder with sharp eyes. He was a moroi... Fey could see that, as well as sense something else... There was something else about him that he could sense, though Fey couldn't put his finger on it. Whatever it was, it was almost as warm as his link with the moon.

Whoever he was, he looked to be in his mid to late twenties. He was as tall as a model, typical for some moroi, and wore a messy, dark head of hair. He met Fey's eyes with his deep emerald ones. He kept a steady gaze on him, and Fey couldn't help but feel as if this moroi was peering right into him.: a deeper part of him that nobody else could see.

It was a strange feeling...

"I take it this is him?" the moroi finally broke away from him, looking over in Fubuki's direction.

Fubuki confirmed the question with a slight nod of his head, "Yes, Endou and Kidou received jurisdiction of him. He only arrived a few moments ago." He paused, turning to give Fey a ginger look before he asked, "So, was your hunch correct? Were you right about him?"

The moroi nodded, and Fey merely watched in puzzlement as they spoke back and fourth about him. Had they been skeptical of him, after all? They'd known he was Prince Badica's missing son all along, hadn't they?

"Oh god, yeah. His aura's as golden as they come."

Fey narrowed his eyes, interrupting, "Aura? What are you talking about?"

"Ah, you're like Lissa was. You can't see auras yet," was the moroi's response.

Fey's eyebrow twitched in annoyance at the lack of a response to his question. Instead the dark haired stranger was continuing to speak in gibberish. Before he could growl back for a proper reply, Fubuki spoke softly, "Fey, this is Adrian Ivashkov. He's the one who wanted to meet you most after hearing the stories spread from New York."

An Ivashkov? Then this guy was a member of one of the twelve royal families, just like Fey was.

"So what?" Fey found himself snapping, "You had me brought here because you wanted to ask me why I compelled all those people? Why I completely fucked up? Sorry I was homeless. Homeless people get hungry too, you know. Or can you already see all of your answers in my supposed '_aura_'?"

"You need to calm down. I wouldn't mock auras, if I were you. It's only because I can see that your spirit's darkness is making you irritable through your aura that I don't think you're a complete brat." Adrian didn't sound chiding as he spoke, but... understanding, somehow. "And no – I asked the academy to try and take custody of you because we're one and the same. Or at least, I had a hunch after hearing about some kid who was using his compulsion so recklessly. Only another spirit user would feel such reckless confidence in their compulsion. It was either that or you were a complete idiot. I gambled on the better of the two, and what do you know, I was right."

Fey blinked his anger away, a sense of inquisitiveness replacing it and lingering in his brow. "What do you mean we're one and the same? Stop talking in riddles... What's a spirit user?"

Adrian gave him a look. "You lived in such a bustling city, and you're telling me you've never even heard of spirit? Look, I know that spirit's rarity has made it a pretty private topic, but everybody nowadays has at least _heard_ of it."

He hadn't spoken with them personally, but while in New York, Fey _had _come across moroi and dhampir communities. They would whisper of vampiric events and such, the most notable being Queen Tatiana's tragic death, as well as the revival of the Dragomir family. Their Princess has been crowned Queen, and he'd heard them toss around the term 'spirit user' while conversing about her. But Fey hadn't paid close enough attention to really learn anything.

At Fey's silence, Adrian sighed and ran a hand through his messy hair. "I guess we have a lot to talk about."

Fubuki gave a nod of agreement, standing from his seat as he gestured for Adrian to come forward. "Adrian, why don't you come and sit? I'll leave the both of you to talk. Be sure to tell him everything. He shouldn't have to feel confused anymore." He gave Fey another sympathetic eyed look. "Oh, and if it would be okay, could you talk to him about the offer you and I spoke about?"

"An offer?" Fey repeated, scowling. Couldn't they tell anything to him straight? He was becoming incredibly impatient with their vague statements. "What offer? Can somebody please tell me what's going on? I thought that maybe this was some form of punishment for my sins and stuff, but instead it turns out you hauled me all the way out here because of some rich kid's demand?"

"Whoa, hold up," Adrian mocked offense, "First off, yeah, I'm rich, but I'm definitely not a kid. _You're _the kid. You're really not helping me believe otherwise. Oh, and second – I piqued an interest in you for reasons that I'm about to explain. Didn't you hear me say that we need to talk? Give me a minute." He cocked his head to the side, his voice sarcastic and arrogant as he took a step closer to Fey, leaning in towards him with insightful green eyes. "Why? Would you rather have stayed in New York? Sure, be my guest. Go back. Do you have any idea what could've happened to you if you'd continued down the path of reckless compulsion use? If moroi heard enough about it to spread the news up here, than how many strigoi do you suppose caught wind of it? Selfish people who came to the same conclusion as me? I'm sure there's plenty of people out there who'd be more than happy to use your abilities for their own benefit."

Fubuki left, appearing nervous to leave the pair alone as he peered back into the room before gently closing the door behind him. He only hoped that everything would work out.

Fey was at a loss for words at that, squeezing the fingers of his right hand around the left hand that sat in his lap. He bowed his head, "I-I'm sorry... I didn't mean to be so snappy with you..." He forced a weak laugh. "I just don't feel like myself today."

"Don't worry about it," Adrian shrugged it off, throwing himself into the chair that Fubuki had previously sat in, "I know."

After a long pause of silence between them, Fey timidly spoke up, curious about the last part of Adrian's prior remark – the one about other people using him and such. "You said that there are people out there who'd use my abilities for selfish reasons... You know about them? My abilities, I mean? How? Does it have to do with me being a supposed spirit user?"

"I don't know what your abilities are in detail, no," Adrian admitted, "When I said that you and I are the same, I meant that I'm a spirit user too. Spirit users are rare and unique, so yeah – typically we can draw attention."

There were more people like him? Fey rose in his seat slightly at that, his eyes large and curious – taken aback even. His lips parted faintly as he sucked in a sharp breath, a sense of relief washing over him. He wasn't alone? He wasn't a freak? There'd been people like him this entire time?

"So the strange things I can do are because I'm a spirit user?"

"Probably, though I'd like to get into more detail about the sorts of things you can do. We each have things we excel in, but we share a lot of the same abilities too. Based on what I've heard, your compulsion is better then average when compared to the typical moroi. But at the same time, it sounds weak for a spirit user if a human could break away from it on multiple occasions. Some spirit users can use compulsion to the same extent that any strigoi can. It's impressive." He looked Fey up and down with curious green eyes. "Obviously you've already specialized, so what's your spirit quirk?"

Specialized? Fey knew that moroi, once in their early teens, usually specialized in a specific element. Typically, the options were between fire, water, wind and earth. So instead of specializing in the usual, he'd specialized in this 'spirit' instead?

"So spirit's another element. Just a rarer one." Fey confirmed before replying to Adrian's interest in his own abilities. He smiled, shaking his head lightly in disbelief at all of this. "I really wish I'd known this before now... Growing up, I'd always begged my caretakers to send me here. I always thought that I could learn to control my powers, but over time, I'd hurt more and more people and I began to believe them... that I was a total freak. That nobody could ever understand me..."

"Wait... What?" Adrian's eyes narrowed a little bit as he leaned slightly over the desk that stood between them, "You can't control your powers? What do you usually end up doing that hurts people? Hallucinations or something? Those are caused through heightened compulsion though... so it wouldn't make sense considering your compulsion doesn't seem powerful enough."

Fey hadn't even been aware that spirit users were capable of such a feat. If he were, he'd shown no signs of it as of yet. Swallowing thickly in fear that maybe he was an anomaly to spirit users, even, Fey spoke, the faintest shake in his voice at the memories that resurfaced ; at the sounds of the earsplitting screams that sounded distantly in his mind. "...No, I can't do anything like that. But..." he gazed down at his gloved hands, "...With a mere touch, I can break the mind. Even a perfectly mentally healthy person succumbs to insanity." He choked, trembling now. "Natsumi... I did it to Natsumi. I've killed people because of it..."

Adrian stared from across the table, a crease appearing in his brow. "You touch them and they go insane?" He'd never heard of such a thing before. But when he thought about it, it sounded a lot like the darkness caused by spirit. Somehow, Fey was capable of transferring his spirit darkness to another host through touch, or at least, that was Adrian's theory on the subject. That's what it sounded like, to him. Because spirit users were so rare, he couldn't turn the idea down just because he hadn't yet seen another spirit user perform such a feat. The list of spirit abilities was limitless.

"This might seem like a weird question, but have you ever noticed that your own mind feels lighter when you do this to people? Does it feel like a weight's been lifted from your mind? As if it's been purified, I guess?"

Reluctantly, Fey nodded. "Yeah. I suppose so. It doesn't make much sense, and I always thought that maybe I was making myself sick like how I do other people, but I sometimes feel that my thoughts are... _murkier_ than usual. It didn't feel as bad back then, but I guess it made my thoughts feel clearer. Now I just usually rely on the moon to help me feel better. I don't like to do it the other way... That's why I wear these gloves. I don't want to hurt anybody anymore..."

"Those dark thoughts you're talking about are caused from spirit use. Normally a moroi's magic is pulled from the earth, but a spirit user's magic comes from their own essence. Because of such, it takes a toll on us both mentally and physically, leading to depression, increased irritability, increased violence, paranoia and eventually insanity. There are ways to cope with it, though, so don't panic. Though..." Adrian's curiosity intensified. Fey couldn't tell if he was completely shocked and horrified, or if he was simply consumed with sheer fascination. "What do you mean when you say the moon helps you feel better?"

Adrian had never heard of anything like that before. Normally, the only way a spirit user was capable of escaping their dark moods was through medication (his own kind of 'medication' being cigarettes and alcohol) or by transferring their darkness into a bond mate. From the description of his 'dark touch,' however, Fey was capable of projecting his darkness to whomever he pleased, though they suffered instant insanity, unlike the gradual deterioration of a bond mate. And what of this talk of the moon? It almost sounded as if Fey was capable of healing himself in a way that differed from his dark touch. So far, that had been unheard of among spirit users. They could easily heal those around them, including the darkness from their bond mate, but had always been incapable of healing themselves. If Fey's ability was what it sounded like, than Adrian was more than eager to learn of it. Maybe Fey would be the breakthrough for all spirit users.

Fey met Adrian's eyes for a moment before his own minty orbs flickered downward, an unsteady breath coming from his lips. So it was his magic that left him with such unstable emotions? His magic was eating away at his mind until eventually he'd lose it? He'd felt that way on multiple occasions, so it helped comfort him somehow considering Adrian obviously knew what he was talking about. He really did understand what it was Fey was going through. What was more, he'd assured him that there were ways to cope with it. That had been made obvious to him the day he'd left the Badica manor. The moon had lifted the suicidal thoughts that had encouraged him to jump from his bedroom window. It had continued to heal him nearly every night ever since.

"Over these past few months, I've begun to realize that I feel a lot closer to my magic when the moon's out. The fuller it is, the more connected we are. I can use compulsion and the thing where I turn people crazy whenever," he laughed bitterly, "Of course, right? But my other powers, the ones that I feel nothing but joy while using – no guilt – I can only use those when the moon's out. I call it lunar empowerment considering it doesn't only make me feel more powerful, but it makes me feel alive on an emotional level too. I don't really know how else to describe it." A small smile found it's way to his lips. It felt strange to be talking to somebody about this at all. But at the same time, it was nice. He wasn't sure if it was the fact that he could sense that warm glow from Adrian that he now understood was his own recognition of another spirit user, but despite his trust issues, Fey was relieved to have finally found somebody who could understand him.

"So far, I've been able to form some sort of a barrier with lunar energy," the greenette turned sheepish, "I still haven't really mastered it yet though. Hmm, and asides from that, whenever I concentrate and bask in moonlight, I can refresh myself of that 'dark' stuff that you were talking about. Darkness caused by spirit use or something? If I don't do that every night, then I start getting depressed and stuff. In the daytime it usually comes back, so I'm not myself a lot of the time, I feel."

"It sounds to me like you'd be better off on a vampiric schedule. That way, you could sleep off the depression and than heal once you wake up," Adrian noted, intrigued by what he had just heard. So he'd been right after all. Fey really could heal himself. Though Adrian couldn't help but frown at his past idea to have Fey teach him his technique. It sounded as if Fey's spirit abilities relied a lot on the moon, and Adrian had no idea how to get his own spirit to connect him to a secondary source like that. Fey's spirit was built around him, differing from the spirit abilities Adrian had seen thus far.

He did have a theory of why Fey's spirit was built around him the way it was, however and why Fey would be in desperate need of a self-healing ability. He needed it to a greater extent than the spirit users who suffered at a slower rate.

"That fact that your spirit ability has linked itself to a secondary source means that you use spirit continuously. It's in effect for prolonged periods of time, keeping it's connection open with the moon during it's presence, which in turn causes you to fall into madness far more quickly than the rest of us. That's probably why you feel it's best to heal every night. It builds up to such an extent in a mere day. You wouldn't have lived even a week at that rate, so maybe your spirit adapted to that fact by giving you the ability to heal yourself."

Fey frowned. "What? You mean you can't heal yourself?"

"Nah, but don't worry," Adrian assured him once noticing the glint of concern in the younger's eyes, "I've got my own ways of coping with it." Hoping to avoid that sort of conversation, Adrian switched the subject, adding, "I already know you can't see auras, but how about healing? You can heal yourself, but are you able to summon up healing magic that physically heals others?"

Fey shook his head, staring down at his hands. He doubted that such an evil touch was capable of such a thing. They brought about death, not healing. "I haven't really interacted with enough people to be sure."

"Good, then how about you let me teach you? I can teach you how to heal, and how to see people's auras, and I guess I could even teach you my spirit speciality, dream walking."

Fey blinked at that, taken aback by the sudden offer. A wariness overtook him before any sort of excitement could, however. "Wait... you'd teach me? So basically, you'd take me to live at your manor or whatever?" If that were the case, then he really had to deny the tempting offer. There was no way he, a runaway Badica, could stay underneath the roof of the Ivashkov family. As a royal family, Adrian's folks could very well have been acquainted with Marcella. He couldn't risk getting caught. Not now. He'd never go back there.

"God no," Adrian seemed amused at the thought, though it was more than apparent to Fey that it was far deeper than that. With both this and the statement from before, Fey figured that Adrian wasn't on the best terms with his family himself. "Fubuki wants you to stay here and attend class and all that fun stuff. On a note that's actually exciting, not sarcastically so, if you did stay, I'd be more than glad to stick around for the summer and help you polish up your spirit abilities." He added, eyes gleaming. "Besides, I'd love to see your spirit in action. So what do you say? It beats living on the streets. Sure school is lame and the rules are stupid, but at least you'd have a roof over your head ; clean clothes ; access to feeders."

The offer had been dumped on him so fast... He understood that staying at St. Vladimir's would be better for him... but even so. He couldn't keep from hesitating. How could he make up his mind to such a life changing decision just like that?

_'Sure it beats living on the streets, but what if I get caught? What if they return me to the Badica family? Is it worth the risk?... Well, maybe. If I can learn to control my powers, that should be encouragement enough. Ugh, but I don't know. Would I really be happy here? I don't even remember the last time I interacted with people my own age. I'm a social mess... it's not like I'd make any friends. Nobody would like me anyway.' _He pressed his lips together in thought. _'Yeah, but would you rather feel lonely on the streets, or feel lonely here? At least here I wouldn't have to use compulsion anymore. You promised not to use it anymore once you cleaned your act up. And this seems like a good enough opportunity to do exactly that.' _

"If this helps you decide, I think I know how you hurt people by merely touching them," Adrian said, watching as the boy seemed to be working out his own inner conflict. If he could push him towards the decision of staying, then he hoped to do exactly that. Realizing that he'd caught Fey's skeptical interest, he continued, "You brought up a 'Natsumi' earlier. You hurt her, right? What if I told you there's a way to save her?"

The greenette drew his eyebrows together, his minty orbs leery, "I'd say you don't know what you're talking about because she's dead. I probably killed her." His hands balled into quaking fists in his lap and he did everything in his power to control the slight burning that had made itself present in the back of his eyes.

"Natsumi Endou, right?" Adrian mentioned, watching as shock consumed every facial feature on the younger's face.

Regardless, the shock was quick to pass and Fey stood from his seat, angered. His response wasn't an overreaction from his spirit darkness, as his voice was cold when he spoke – not snappy the way he'd been before. "How do you know about her?"

Adrian gestured for him to sit back down, explaining himself as he did so, "Her husband works here. She's still alive, you know. After you confessed to driving a woman named Natsumi insane, it wasn't difficult for me to place the pieces together. She suffered exactly that two years back. Nobody could explain what had happened... She's in the hospital, even to this day. I've even tried healing her, but I think it needs to be you. I think you need to take the darkness back. I think you're the only one who can."

Fey refused to sit down, stepping further away, if anything. His face had begun to pale as a panic-stricken fact clicked in at Adrian's words. If Adrian knew of the incident, then he probably knew where it had taken place. Now that Fey had admitted to it, Adrian knew who he was...

He wanted to save Natsumi if he could, but the hysteria at the unwanted revelation flooded him, sending his heart racing as he clenched his jaw. "You know who I am..."

_'I have to get out of here! I'm not going back!' _

Adrian stood from his chair now, approaching the boy calmly, "Hey, c'mon. Calm down. It wasn't ever reported that it was you who did it, obviously, but I figured it out considering the Prince's runaway son was living at the Badica Manor where Natsumi worked at the time. You being a runaway and then describing your abilities to me made it pretty obvious to link the two up and realize who did that to her – Fayah Badica. But I'm not gonna tell anybody. I'm sure you have your reasons. Nobody else knows. I just figured it out. You don't need to get so worked up."

Fey's eyebrows knitted together sadly and his minty hues swam in a desperate attempt to trust him. He _wanted _to trust Adrian. He really did. He was a spirit user like him, and the thought of staying here and letting Adrian teach him more about spirit made him think that just maybe he could find that happiness he'd searched so long for. He could belong somewhere.

"You promise you won't tell _anybody_? Even the employees at the school? Even that therapist?" Fey awaited a response, holding his breath as his eyes wildly searched Adrian's face for even the faintest hint of deception.

"I can't imagine how difficult it must have been for you after your father left. Some of my own family members who'd been friends with him were devastated, and they went on about how they felt for you. I don't know what the Badica's did to you after that, or if it had to do with your spirit abilities, but obviously your past is something you're desperate to get away from. I can hardly blame you. We've all got skeletons in our closet," Adrian had made it before the other moroi without giving him reason to step away from him, setting a hand on the shoulder that trembled lightly underneath his fingertips. "It's between you and me, and even then, I won't pry. Family discussions can be something we keep to ourselves."

Fey flinched at Adrian's touch, resisting the urge to reject it. So instead of pushing him away, Fey froze underneath his looming figure, gloved hands squeezing at one another nervously. If he hadn't been a spirit user like him, Fey most likely wouldn't have trusted him to the reluctant extent that he did. "As long as you keep your promise, and guide me with my spirit abilities, then I'll stay. I'll even enroll."

"Good to hear," Adrian's hand fell from Fey's shoulder as he withdrew, signalling that they sit back down. "Take a seat and we'll talk about your first lesson."

"Is it to fix Natsumi?" Fey questioned hopefully, "I want to help her. It's the least I could do."

Adrian nodded, "Yup, I'd like to see if my theory's right or not. You should either be able to heal her with healing magic, or take back the darkness that you planted into her. But because you're not as far along as using healing magic, we'll have to try reversing what you did. You need to take it back into yourself. That will take it's toll on your own state of mind though, and considering you don't seem to be doing considerably good yourself, I'd say we wait until tomorrow morning. She's at a hospital in Missoula, so we'll need to go during the daytime. It'll give you a chance to settle in here anyway."

"You really think that will work? It's been that simple this entire time?" Fey found himself growing faintly optimistic at the news, but at the same time a little bit sad.

"I wouldn't be too hard on yourself. You probably panicked far too much to focus on reversing it anyway. Anybody would," Adrian pointed out, "At the same time, maybe it isn't even possible. We can't be sure until you try tomorrow."

Fey bit at his lower lip, accepting the fact though frustrated by it all the same.

Adrian gave him an encouraging smile, "Hey, chin up. I'm an insanely adept teacher. You're in good hands. I'll teach you everything I know and more."

"Thanks," his mouth twitched up into the lightest smile, "Not to help feed the ego or anything, but I can't wait to get started. I mean, all this time, I thought my powers were all mostly bad. But I can learn how to see people's auras, and how to heal them, and dream walking." His eyebrow quirked. "What is dream walking anyway? Is it where I can enter people's dreams or something like that?"

"Oh, that and so much more," Adrian grinned proudly, "It's not so much that you're sucked into their dream. You create it."

Fey was mesmerized by the thought, though quickly realized that he didn't have anybody to communicate with anyway. It would be weird for him to jump into some stranger's dreams... Curiously, though somewhat doubtful, Fey asked, "What about my own dreams? Can I shape those too?"

It would be great if he could rid himself of the dream he often had of his father.

"Unfortunately not," the older spirit user winked teasingly, "Oh, the fantasies we could live if that were the case." Fey merely blinked at him, having not understood the joke. Clearing his throat, he continued, "But, um, yeah: I can teach you that, and I can also try to help you with your compulsion. Maybe your compulsion was weak before because you didn't use it during lunar empowerment. You lived on a human type time schedule, right? So you probably used it when it was most weak. We can try it, and if it needs polishing up, that's what we'll do."

Fey shook his head, immediately declining the offer. "No thanks."

He didn't want to use compulsion anymore... It made him sick with every use, and yet he hadn't been able to stop, forming excuses for himself instead. Now that his needs would be cared for at the academy, Fey would remain steadfast to his promise never to use compulsion again.

Adrian gave him a questionable look, shrugging his shoulders lazily, "Well, suit yourself. You never know when it'd come in handy though." With that, he placed his hands on his knees, sighed and then stood from his chair, "Anyhow, I think it's best we call it a night. I've been up _way _too long. How about I show you to your room? I guess considering you're used to a daytime schedule, you're not ready to get to bed just yet. I'd tell you to try and sleep so you can adapt to the vampiric one," he scratched at the back of his head, pondering, "Though there's no point if we're going out tomorrow during the daytime. Hmm, you're gonna be totally bored. Nothing really goes on here at night, er, or day for you, I guess."

Fey stood after Adrian, preparing to follow after him as he was going to take him to his room. He beamed at the thought, excited to see his new room. He couldn't believe that he'd have a space all to himself again: a heated one that wasn't completely eerie and not a possible crack house.

It seemed Adrian had continued to contemplate the entire time they walked down the empty halls. They passed the odd guardian, who would eye Fey suspiciously. "You know what," Adrian seemed to break away from his thoughts, making his mind up on whatever it was he'd been thinking about. "So you're not totally bored, want me to get you a laptop? I can have somebody deliver it here by private jet in an hour."

It took a moment for Fey to process the words that had come from Adrian's mouth. Sure, Fey understood more than just about anybody how rich those born into the royal families were, but... what the hell... Had he just been offered a laptop by a moroi he'd met not even an hour ago?

His heart jumped, wondering if maybe he was over thinking it – that maybe Adrian was offering to order it for him if he provided the money for it, of course. Wait... but why would be expect him to have that sort of money when he'd been homeless for the past few months. That couldn't be it.

No way. There was just no way. Nobody ever bought him gifts. Not ever. Sure, he'd had some mysterious saviour provide him with blood in the park back in Cleveland. He counted that, he supposed. But other then that, Marcella had never given him any Christmas or birthday gifts. She'd gone about his birthday as if it were any other day. The last gift he'd ever received had been from his father...

"I-I couldn't do that! It's fine! Uh, how about a library? I could just borrow some books from there, if you have one. That'd occupy me for awhile," Fey spoke almost frantically, feeling his face heat up as modesty swelled up inside him. There was no way he could accept a laptop from Adrian.

"Oh," Adrian made a face as they stopped in front of a dorm room that must have been prepared for Fey. "It's a good thing I was joking then."

Fey was relieved, though couldn't deny that he didn't understand Adrian's humour even the slightest.

When Fey didn't cater to his wit, Adrian pushed the doors to Fey's new room open. His eyes overwhelmed, he didn't even realize it as Adrian directed a hand towards a desk. It took a moment for Fey to take notice of the laptop that sat on it's surface.

The greenette craned his neck in a way that allowed him to look up into Adrian's face, his minty eyes blinking in shock.

"I was just kidding cause I already made sure to have one ready for you. Cool, right?"

That it definitely was, but even so. He couldn't believe it. What would push a complete stranger to buy him anything, let alone an expensive appearing laptop!?

"T-thank you," Fey continued to redirect his stare between both Adrian and the gift, awestruck, "But why?"

Adrian mocked upset, teasing the younger moroi, "What can I say: I'm a nice guy. That's all there is to it. Besides, I thought if you did decide to stay here that you'd need some belongings. What kid doesn't like their electronics. And hey – my choice was a good one. You like to read, right? Well, you can always read books online, and uh, fanfiction or whatever they call it."

Once Fey managed to utter a few more modest comments, thanking Adrian though pressing the fact that he really, really didn't have to do such a thing for him, Adrian said his good nights. He told him that he'd see him tomorrow.

'See you tomorrow.'

Fey repeated the words mutely against his lips, looking his laptop over as his chest faintly glowed in a way that was almost alien to him.

Was this what being content felt like?

* * *

Fey snuggled into his new coat – one that Adrian had provided him – as they stopped at the main gate, a chilly morning breeze swirling through his strands of hair gently. The bright morning sun kissed at his skin, perhaps another reason for him to bury his face into the collar of his jacket. He admitted, though, that the warmth felt somewhat pleasant.

"Endou's coming with us?" a worried crease appeared over Fey's brow at the words that had left Adrian's mouth once they'd made their way out to the gate, "Does he know that I did that to Natsumi? What if he figures it out like you did?"

Adrian shook his head doubtfully, "I wouldn't worry about anything like that. Endou's not the... most _perceptive _individual around. What can I say? I'm exceptionally intelligent. A genius. But in all seriousness, I just told Endou that because you were another spirit user, that I thought we should maybe give it a shot. He doesn't know anything about you being in that house when Natsumi succumbed to the darkness."

Fey felt a bit bad for keeping it a secret. It didn't feel right. Especially when he deserved for Endou to detest him for what he'd done to his wife...

"Hey, don't let it eat you up," Adrian must have noticed his sour face. He pulled a cigarette out from his pocket as they continued to wait for Endou at the front gate.

Fey scrunched his nose up as he lit it. "Are you allowed to do that? We're technically still on school property."

Adrian shrugged, "Nobody needs to know. Besides, there's no students around anyway."

"_I'm_ a student now."

"Don't you get cheeky with me, Artemis," Adrian smirked against the cigarette in his mouth. Since the younger had healed, he was beginning to catch onto Fey's personality more. He liked his cheerful playfulness. In return, Fey had come to realize that Adrian tended to label people with nicknames. He'd noticed that Adrian switched between calling him either 'Moonbeam' or 'Artemis.' Both having to do with the moon, apparently. He didn't mind, wondering if maybe that made Adrian fond of him somehow. "You're not a student _yet. _Not until the paper work's been all done."

Fey opened his mouth to retort teasingly, but sealed his lips when he followed Adrian's sudden wave and watched as Endou approached them. Fey thought that maybe he'd appear grim, his belief that Fey would be able to help his wife doubtful when no other spirit user as of yet had been of any use.

But that didn't appear to be the case when Endou stopped at the young moroi's side, a bright smile lighting up his face. Endou's brown eyes burned with appreciation as his tanned hand patted at his head, sending green strands of hair out of place. "This means a lot to me, Fey. Thanks for doing this." Fey automatically shied away from the friendly gesture, but felt a pang of guilt when he realized that it must have seemed rude to do so. More waves of guilt hit him as he reminded himself that he didn't even deserve Endou's gratitude in the first place. He wouldn't have been so nice to him if he understood that it was Fey who had done that to his wife in the first place...

Either way, the spirit user forced a weak smile. "It's the least I could do." If only Endou understood just how true those words were.

With that, the three of them piled into a car that pulled up next to them quickly after Endou's arrival. The same red haired moroi from the other day (Fey had caught onto the fact that his name was Hiroto during their drive) sat at the wheel, welcoming them as they took their seats and fastened their seat belts. This time, Endou sat in the passenger's seat while Adrian took the spot next to Fey. However, they didn't take off until a second dhampir joined them, squeezing into the back with Fey and Adrian.

Fey pressed himself against the car door as much as he possibly could at the contact, trying to escape the way Adrian's frame brushed against his side. He didn't mind it as much, considering Adrian's vibes and the fact that he was a fellow spirit user made him distinctly more comfortable around him, but even so. Touch was too foreign for him to brush off the automatic reaction completely.

It turned out their extra passenger was a second guardian – a tanned dhampir named Ryuugo Someoka. Fey didn't know much about guardians and their tactics, but he did know that their job was to protect moroi. He supposed it made sense to have at least two guardians with them considering they were leaving the safety of the wards. It would be troublesome for Endou to keep an eye on three moroi on his own. Or maybe Fey wasn't giving him enough credit, and they were doing such for safety reasons.

Once they headed off, Someoka and Endou chatted, Hiroto joining in every now and then.

Fey merely glanced out the window, trying to ignore the unwanted pressure he could feel against his shoulder. Adrian must have seen his discomfort in his aura considering he'd bring up random topics, almost as if he'd hoped to distract Fey.

Eventually, the two became locked in a conversation about spirit, going over points they'd mentioned the other day and adding on to those. Gradually, Fey grew slightly more comfortable. At least to the point where he could sit fairly straighter in his seat.

It was a good thing he'd become engaged in conversation too, because he hadn't expected the drive from St. Vladimir's to Missoula to be so long. Compared to the amount of time he'd spent in cars while he was on the run, the two hour long drive was nothing. But with his minor case of Haphephobia triggered and causing him discomfort, the ride seemed to drag on.

Fey was relieved when the car finally came to a stop outside of a hospital. He eagerly swung the door open to take a lungful of fresh air. He laced his gloved hands together, stretching after stepping from the vehicle's interior.

Adrian crawled out after him, joining him at his side. Looking into his emerald eyes, Fey realized just how tired the other spirit user appeared. This was another long day for him (or night?), considering he was accustomed to a vampiric schedule. He should be in bed right now. Bags hung under his eyes, and he looked fairly irritated as he squinted in the sun's rays. Probably because Hiroto hadn't let him smoke in his car the entire two hours. He was probably craving a cigarette by now.

Fey only hoped that Adrian's spirit darkness had nothing to do with it. The older moroi had stated that he had his own way of coping with it, but Fey wasn't sure of what exactly that was, or whether it was as effective as his own methods or not. It was a difficult concept for him to fully grasp considering their spirit was so different. He worried how Adrian's moods were often, but then he also tried to remind himself that Adrian had noted that their darkness effected them differently. Fey would succumb to it in a matter of hours, whereas Adrian had mentioned that most spirit users were gradually effected over several years.

Maybe there was no need for him to worry about Adrian, but he couldn't help it either way. He thought about maybe attempting to heal Adrian's darkness. Maybe if he concentrated on another while basking in moonlight, he could direct it towards them? He wasn't sure, but he was more than willing to try. He understood how terrible spirit's effects could be, and if he could help a fellow user escape such thoughts and dark moods, then he'd do what needed to be done in order to achieve that.

But he shook his head free of such thoughts as he watched Adrian pull out a cigarette from his coat pocket. For now, he needed to think about helping Natsumi. He was beginning to feel a bit nervous, wondering about technique and such. He didn't know what he needed to do in order to take back the darkness he had given to her... He hardly even understood what triggered the reversal.

The greenette was at least hopeful that Adrian would be there to help him. They could figure it out together.

Before trekking through the parking lot, the small group waited for Adrian to finish with his cigarette. He wasn't allowed to smoke a certain distance from the hospital's entrance, so it was for the best.

Despite the bright sunlight that showered them, Endou and Someoka both appeared as if they were on high-alert. Fey noticed it as their eyes seemed to sweep the lot, posed and ready for action if need be. They seemed as if they'd be up for anything.

Even once Hiroto spoke to the brown haired dhampir, he still remained focused. Three moroi depended on him with their lives, after all. It was a fierceness that all dhampir guardians seemed to possess, but this was the first time that Fey felt he'd truly noticed it.

"Are you alright, Endou?" Hiroto began, his tone soft. "Would you like me to stay in the car, and just let you go in alone with Fey? Someoka can stay with me."

But Endou declined with a steady shake of his head. If he really did feel melancholy by the situation, he really didn't show it. "Don't be silly. We'll all go in together. It would make Natsumi happy to have so many visitors."

Adrian drew Fey's sad eyes away from the conversation with the fond use of his nickname. He hadn't even known Adrian for more than twenty-four hours, but their connection was immediate. That was undeniable, even for the boy who'd sworn he'd never put his trust in another human being ever again. Not that he was willing to hand his heart out to the other moroi, spirit user or not...

"Let's wait inside, Moonbeam," he stomped out his cigarette, "When they finish up talking, we can talk more about technique. Mentally prepping you for this should make it easier once you're actually in there. But hey, you probably won't get it on your first try. Don't fret on having to experiment."

Fey swallowed thickly, but nodded in response – a glint of determination burning within his eyes. He'd never felt so compelled to do something before. He wanted to help Natsumi so desperately. She'd been the closest person he'd ever had to a mother figure.

It was probably too late for him to wash away regret and guilt, but if he could help her and completely prevent this from happening to anybody else ever again, then that was probably the best way he would ever atone for his sins.

Fey and Adrian made their way inside the hospital, seating themselves close to the entrance. It seemed Someoka had broken away from Endou and Hiroto, following after them like a shadow. Adrian splayed his hands out over the table between them, asking for Fey to place his own hands over them. "You don't need the moon for transferring spirit darkness, just touch, right?"

Uncertainly, Fey nodded his head. He didn't like where this was going.

"Good," Adrian's emerald green eyes flicked from Fey's own minty ones to the hands that awaited the younger moroi's touch, "Take my hands. Concentrate on trying to reverse the effect – concentrate hard on trying to draw out the darkness, rather than let it escape from you."

Fey opened his mouth to protest, pressing his hands frantically into his lap. That way, Adrian wouldn't be able to come into contact with them. But the more experienced spirit user cut him off before he could say anything.

"Just try it. I don't want you to actually take any darkness from me, if that's even possible. But I want you to try and at least feel it. Get a grasp of it, and then let go. Don't worry so much, Artemis. You've got this. Besides, this may be a long shot," he threw Fey a lazy smile, though it didn't do much to ease the panic he felt at the sudden request, "but I don't think you could do anything to me, even if you wanted to. I don't think your touch would effect spirit users the way it does normal people considering we already house spirit darkness within ourselves. We're more tolerable to it than other people too, so even if you did happen to slip a bit of darkness into me, I don't think it would be so severe. But my guess is that I'd be immune to what it is you do."

Fey continued to protest, shaking his head desperately, "But you don't know that for sure! You never saw what I did to those people! It was horrible!" He could feel his eyes grow misty at the memories – at the screams that resurfaced, and the way people would drop to their knees as if they were in agony. The way some of them would act out deliriously, or even kill themselves. "Why would I even risk it? I'll just try my best with Natsumi, I don't need to practice!"

"But what if you just give her more of your darkness instead? You should at least try," Adrian pressed. He wasn't mad or impatient, but more so encouraging. "It'll all be fine. You'll see. Just try." His fingers twitched in the faintest motion, also encouraging him.

Fey bit at the inside of his mouth, staring down at his own hands doubtfully. He didn't want to hurt Adrian... But Adrian was right. What if he just made Natsumi's condition worse? He couldn't risk that either... He'd done enough.

Sucking in a sharp breath, Fey's hands hastily rose from his lap and placed themselves across Adrian's palms.

Tear it off like a band-aid. The sooner he got this over with, rather than agonize over it, the better. It didn't seem he had much of a choice, and if he was capable of hurting other spirit users, than it was best he know the answer sooner than later. But he didn't know how he'd handle it if he were to hurt Adrian... Adrian was supposed to be his guide. If something _did _happen to go wrong, it was Adrian who was supposed to teach him how to control it. How would he fix Adrian if it came down to it? He didn't know what he was doing...

He tried not to think about it, holding his breath as he watched Adrian's face for any sort of negative reaction at all.

But Adrian simply gave him the same usual smile, stating, "Without the gloves."

Fey glanced at his hands, a pang of dismay coursing through him. So that was why Adrian appeared unaffected. He'd forgotten through his panic to remove his leather gloves... Then there was still a chance that this would take an unwanted turn...

Taking in another shaky breath, Fey's trembling hands withdrew from around Adrian's. He merely stared at them for several moments before nervously taking in the surrounding area that was the hospital. The knot in his stomach making him feel sick now, Fey clumsily peeled the gloves away from his hands. It felt so, so wrong when he took in their bareness.

There were so many people around... He was putting them all at risk.

"C'mon," said Adrian softly, "It's okay. Go ahead."

Unwillingly, the greenette's quivering hands found their way back to Adrian's, slowly and unsteadily hugging around his fingers as his thumb rested within Adrian's palm. He dared to look into Adrian's face, again watching for any bad signs. But he couldn't feel that swell of warmth that usually followed the transfer of his spirit darkness... Even so, it wasn't as if it always happened at immediate contact.

"Okay," Adrian seemed proud, which lessened Fey's nerves if even in the tiniest bit. "Now close your eyes and concentrate. Think about reversing the effect. Think about physically feeling my spirit darkness and then drawing it into yourself."

Fey was unsure, but obeyed anyway. His eyes fluttered shut at the darker haired moroi's command, and he tried to summon up his spirit energy. It was mostly non-existent in the daytime. He couldn't ever feel it the way he did in the night. It was as if it was dormant within him, waiting for him to call upon it for whatever magic was available to him without the moon's silver light.

It took several moments before he really felt much of anything, but it was undeniable once he did. He didn't burn with spirit energy like he often did, but instead, he could feel himself probing Adrian's mind. Well, not his mind, exactly, but his spirit darkness. He could feel it's stormy touch, and without a second thought, he'd been compelled to heal him of it.

Adrian watched as Fey's lashes twitched in intense concentration, reading his aura and watching as the gold of it became tainted with more darkness then what had been there previously. He didn't need to ask to know what was happening.

Adrian snatched his hands back, eager to break the connection in realization that Fey was capable of healing a spirit user of their darkness, despite not being their bond mate. It was stunning, and Adrian didn't know whether to appear amazed or upset.

Fey's eyes flew open at the broken contact, almost as astonished as Adrian was at the awareness of what he had just done. He really hadn't expected it to work. But if he could plant darkness within others, why wouldn't he have been able to reverse the effect?

"Careful," Adrian warned, hiding his hands in his lap. "You don't need to overdo it. You won't be able to heal for another several hours, and you'll also be taking in Natsumi's darkness, and plus the darkness that builds up in the daytime from using spirit the night before." His seriousness was soon to fade when he added, "Besides, I already told you that I can handle this just fine."

Fey recalled the way Adrian's darkness felt like a whirlwind, cracking and bursting violently like thunder and lightning during a fierce storm. He wondered if Adrian covered up his spirit's true toll on him...

"I didn't think I'd be able to do it," Fey smiled despite shivering at the force of the darkness he'd absorbed into himself. For a brief five seconds or so after taking it, Fey had felt his mind swell with irritation and the urge to scream at Adrian for stopping him. But he'd quickly managed to push such thoughts to the back of his mind, shaking himself free of them.

"What did I tell you? I'm an insanely good teacher," Adrian winked. Teasing or not, he really did seem happy for the younger moroi though. Proud even.

Fey stared at his exposed hands.

It made the weight that was Fey's nerves lift slightly, and maybe he'd even gained a tiny bit of confidence. Adrian really could help him figure all of this out, after all. But he still felt that there was still a long way for him to go. He wasn't even close to being in control of his powers.

"What're you guys up to?"

Endou and Hiroto stood next to their table, taking in the scene before them. Endou seemed easy going enough, especially for a guardian, but Hiroto looked slightly disapproving.

"You shouldn't be using magic so openly," Hiroto began, giving them a worried look, "This is a public place. We wouldn't need any humans to notice, and most importantly, we wouldn't want to draw in the attention of any lingering strigoi."

Fey's eyebrows knitted together at that.

Strigoi? In the hospital? "I don't think they'd be here. I lived on my own for months without any wards. I always stuck to travelling when it was light out, and tried to keep around public places early on. I didn't run into any strigoi at all. Not even once."

Hiroto frowned. "You're incredibly lucky." He didn't word his thoughts, but it was obvious that the fact bothered him. What bothered him more so was the fact that they'd found Fey in New York City. Strigoi tended to settle within cities, especially large ones. It was a miracle that Fey hadn't encountered any strigoi. It was more than a miracle. It was suspicious.

"Yeah, you may have been lucky, kid," Someoka stepped up after having scoped out the area. He hit Fey's back – hard – causing the boy to yelp. "But public places and daylight don't stop strigoi. Maybe they can't go out in the sun, but what'll keep them from lingering in buildings? Waiting. Stalking. Keeping a low profile until you're alone and the perfect opportunity arises. You can never be too careful."

Processing the advice that made his skin crawl, Fey followed the adults as they guided him to Natsumi's hospital room. Hiroto walked ahead with Endou, Fey and Adrian travelling behind them, and then Someoka walked slightly further back from them.

Someoka didn't re-join their group until they all took the elevator together. Endou pushed the button, and Fey was left in fascination at experiencing an elevator ride again. He still hadn't gotten used to it.

When they stepped out after it took them up a few floors, Fey caught sight of a sign on the wall that read 'Intensive Care Unit.' Personally, he'd expected that they'd go to the psychiatric unit. But that wasn't the case, apparently. He could feel his unease tugging at his heartstrings, and his nerves returned full force.

To be admitted into such an extreme unit... He had caused this way of living for her. She was in such bad condition because of him. Had she hurt herself in her delirious state? Had she recently been treated for an injury that his very own darkness had influenced upon her?

Below all of the anxiety at seeing her, he could feel an overwhelming amount of self-loathing rise to the surface of his mind, hoping to pick him apart and destroy him the way he had done her.

When they suddenly came to a stop, Fey felt it as his heart froze in his chest and his feet locked where he stood. W-what if she recognized him through the delirium? What if she hated him? What if she screamed for him to get out?

He jumped when Adrian gently touched his shoulder without warning.

"Breathe," the dark haired moroi coaxed him. When the greenette embraced the advice, Adrian turned to Endou and said, "I think it'd be for the best if just the three of us go inside."

Hiroto and Someoka agreed, wishing to keep the moment private for Endou's sake. It was considerate for Fey also. They figured it would be easier on the boy with less eyes watching him as he worked his magic.

The two wished Endou luck before the dhampir's tanned hands pushed the hospital door open, gesturing for Fey and Adrian to follow him inside.

Fey closed his eyes for a quick second, taking a calming breath before working up the courage to face his past. Adrian followed in after him, watching as Fey made his way to her bedside, his lips parted in awe at seeing her again after so many years.

He reached her bedside, looking over her sleeping form with wide eyes. He had to restrain himself from taking hold of her hand, grasping it tightly as he crumpled to his knees and cried out his apologies to her. But no... He held it all back, inhaling steadily a few more times before peering back at where Endou and Adrian stood.

"Is she sleeping?" Fey asked worriedly, his eyes growing even more so when he took in all of the medical machinery around her. He couldn't even keep track of all the tubes that were hooked up to her.

She was connected to a heart monitor, that sounded with her rhythmic pulse in beeps. It was the only source of noise within the room as it became engulfed in silence for a few moments. Fey only grew more concerned at their hesitance.

"She fell into a coma," Endou smiled sadly, making his way over to her bedside. He sat on it's edge, looking her over with loving brown eyes. "She was suffering... I miss her, but at least she seems peaceful this way. But she'll definitely wake up."

Fey could just stare blankly at the unconscious woman before him, those sad yet hopeful words ringing in his ears. He'd done this, and instead of beating himself up about it, he needed to reunite them and let them be happy again. That new source of determination poured into him. He tore the gloves from his hands and stuffed them into his coat pocket, fiercely taking her motionless hand into his own. He squeezed at it, as if to let her know that he was here now. He was here to fix what he'd done. He'd make it all better.

Adrian stepped forward, eyes carefully watching as he absentmindedly pushed a chair into the back of Fey's legs and had him sit down. It would take a lot out of him, and it would work best if he was relaxed.

Fey closed his eyes tightly like the way he'd done with Adrian, finding it harder to grasp at what it was he wanted when his intense emotions clouded his mind. But he was driven, and there was no way he would let go of Natsumi's hand. Not until he'd drained every last bit of darkness he'd plagued her with.

His brow twitched as he continued to try and seek out her darkness. To sense it.

The spirit user's fingers squeezed faintly tighter at her hand when it hit him. He grasped onto it, drawing it away from her. He could feel it as his mind grew murkier, and he whimpered when he wished he could stop. But he couldn't. He was going to take all of it. It was meant for him anyway.

A bead of sweat rolled across the surface of his neck now, and his eyes fluttered at the intensity of his actions. He hadn't even realized that several minutes had passed since he'd first closed his eyes.

"It's working, Moonbeam," Adrian comforted him through the strain, "You're doing it. You're a natural."

He finally released her hand with another whimper when he could feel the last of the darkness leave her. He sagged in his chair, clutching his head in his hands for a brief passing of time before willing all of the darkness to the back of his mind. He didn't think it would take such a toll on him.

"Are you okay?" Endou asked from where he sat on the bed, "Did you heal Natsumi?"

Adrian answered for the moroi who had just managed to catch his breath and regain composure over himself. "That he did. I saw it with my own eyes. Her aura's a lot different."

The sadness in Endou's smile melted away at that. "Really?" he confirmed optimistically, "So now we just need to wait for her to wake up?" He took hold of Natsumi's hand now that Fey wasn't in need of it. "Thank you, Fey. Thank you so much. This means a lot to us."

Fey gave Endou a tired smile in return. He was glad, though discouraged that he couldn't help her wake up too. That, and he wasn't quite sure if he deserved thanks at all, considering this had been his fault in the first place. He accepted it without protest, regardless.

After Adrian made sure that Fey was alright to get up, the two encouraged that Endou spend some time with his wife for a little bit before they left. In the meantime, Adrian took Fey to the hospital's cafeteria.

"Spirit can take a lot out of you," Adrian noted as they headed back downstairs. Someoka and Hiroto joined them, though sat at their own table once they finally reached the room. "It seems to effect you differently sometimes too. It'd probably be for the best if you ate something. It could help you get some energy back."

Fey believed he'd seemed so exhausted before because of the mental strain the sudden amounts of darkness had caused him. Honestly, he felt completely fine now. He'd have the odd dark thought, but that was to be expected. He chose to listen to Adrian, however, as he didn't wish to worry him.

He picked out a few foods that he recognized – ones he knew he'd liked when he'd had them back in New York and such.

Fey thanked him for treating him yet again as they took a seat a fair distance from Hiroto and Someoka. After nibbling on their food a bit, Adrian spoke up, relieved that Fey was appearing brighter at least.

"When we head back, how about you try to get some sleep and work at fixing up your schedule? You need to become accustomed to a vampiric one. Like I said, I think it'd be better for you anyway. You'll feel a world of difference. Your aura's always so much shinier when the moon's out." He paused, "In the morning – the vampiric morning - we can take you to talk to the headmaster about enrolling you. I mean, by this point, you're not gonna be able to start classes until September of this year, but at least you'll have all the paper work filed," he added attentively, "And If you don't want anybody to know who you are, you're gonna need to come up with a false identity. Considering you were homeless when they found you, they shouldn't try and link you to a family, so any sort of name will do. Technically, I'm responsible for you now, so I'll make sure they won't do any snooping."

"I'll tell you right now – the name I choose isn't gonna be Artemis," Fey mentioned jokingly. He didn't add such, but he was genuinely touched that Adrian was always doing so much for him. Would he feel this close with any and all spirit users that he met? Were they outcasts who saw one another as their own little family? The thought brought a small smile to his lips. Family, huh? Perhaps they weren't connected through blood, but it was a soothing thought to know that maybe he had a family he had never met scattered all throughout the world.

Adrian winked, "Well of course not. It can't be your nickname, as well as your surname now, can it?"

Fey thought about it hard on the drive back to St. Vladimir's. It would be a name that stuck with him for a long time. Hopefully. Assuming he was never caught, anyway.

He recalled the many books he'd read back in New York, skimming through the different names and the various titles. He could swipe the surname of a fantasy character, or better yet, he could try to choose one that held some form of meaning to him.

Something to do with the moon?

No. That seemed too cheesy. Besides, Adrian had already given him more than enough nicknames to satisfy that category.

Fey sighed, leaning the side of his head against the glass window of the car. His eyes fluttered shut as he fell into deep thought, only snapping open when his mind skimmed past the name he'd chosen.

Adrian gave him a knowing look, telling by his facial expression that the young moroi had come up with his new name. He didn't word his curiosity though, as they couldn't discuss such a topic with the two guardians and Hiroto in the car with them. He'd wait to hear about it, though could sense from Fey's aura that it must have been good. He could see in the swirls of colours of his aura that he was feeling excited about the achievement, as it marked the beginning of his new life. But the darker colours also indicated that Fey was nervous too.

At least he had more to think about than the discomfort at being in such a crammed space this time.

With his mind made up, and with another hour and a bit of driving to be done, Fey reluctantly took Adrian's advice into his mind and closed his eyes, not for concentration's sake, but for sleep. He drifted in and out of it, the car's vibrations running through him and waking him at times, but eventually, he managed to black out into a dreamless sleep.

The vivid dream of his father tucking him into bed before planting a kiss on his forehead never followed. He didn't have it for the past few sleeps it took for him to adjust himself to a nocturnal schedule either, and he didn't know whether he was relieved, disappointed or completely and utterly furiously bitter.

* * *

"I'm glad to hear that you'll be staying with us," Gouenji, the school's headmaster said, his voice deep and calm. Though his eyes, appearing sharp at first glance, radiated a genuine warmth at his words.

Fey examined the enrollment papers that Gouenji had provided him with, clenching his jaw at the space that required him to write his name. His full name. He didn't know how long he would get away with it for, but if he was to start a new life at the academy – a life that lay disconnected from his past – than he needed a new name. With an alias, he could start fresh for real this time. With a new name, maybe he could even convince himself that he was a different person from Fayah Badica. Fayah Badica was dead. He'd died the night his father had disappeared.

Yes. Fayah Badica was nothing more than his secret now.

Yes... his entire identity was a secret. How fitting it would be for his new name, his alias, to represent exactly that. Having read so many books throughout his travels, Fey recalled the perfect name from it's tattered pages.

Taking a sharp breath, Fey pressed the pen to the enrollment paper, testing his new name on his tongue as he signed it.

"I'm Fey. Fey Rune."

* * *

_**Note: **Rune means 'secret' or 'secret story.' It is of the Old Norse origin. _

_I was originally going to use the alternate spelling of his name for this story, 'Fey Lune,' though found that Rune worked quite nicely with the plot after finding one of it's many meanings. Lune works too, considering it's French for moon. But yeah, I went with Rune and thought it meaning secret was more ironic and meaningful to him, rather than the obvious meaning behind Lune. _

* * *

**Thanks for reading! Any reviews would be very appreciated! I love to know what my readers think! **


	5. Forsaken

**Chapter Five – Forsaken**

* * *

_Three & A Half Years Previous – St. Vladimir's Academy, Montana – Age: 13 - July_

* * *

Fey sat cross-legged on his bed, his brow twitching as he squeezed his eyes shut and attempted to concentrate. He could feel the moon, but no matter how hard he tried, it was as if he couldn't hone it's powers. Not for this. After a few more passing moments, his nose flared as he restrained himself from huffing aloud in frustration.

Adrian was sleeping, despite the darkness outside that indicated the school's daytime. He'd been drinking the night before, it seemed, and his hang over had kept him in bed until even now. It was the perfect opportunity for Fey to try and dream walk to him.

But like every other attempt he'd ever made, it failed. Nothing happened. Nothing ever did.

Adrian always made dream walking appear so easy.

He always did as Adrian instructed... so why couldn't he dream walk?

Fey exhaled audibly, falling back onto his bed and sprawling himself out across it. He stared up at the ceiling of his dorm room, fighting away frustration and the boredom that he felt. With Adrian out of commission for now, and with no other students currently around, he had nobody else to interact with except for guardians and school staff. Not that he'd really tried to interact with students back before they'd gone home for the summer. But even so.

He couldn't deny how lonely he felt. He'd always been lonely. Just this time, he wasn't preoccupied with wondering who his next victim would be, or which city he would head out to next, where he would go to eat... etc.

The loneliness was suddenly so much more real.

Regardless, the few months he'd spent at the academy had been worth his while. Adrian was often around to teach him, though there were times where he'd leave for extended periods of time for his own business. Apparently he had a girlfriend, so it was only to be expected that he not spend every waking moment at the school. But that only made Fey look all the more forward to seeing him when he came back. Adrian had taught him so much, and sure they didn't talk about personal matters – not ever actually – but Fey hadn't ever felt so close to another person before.

He could handle it when Adrian left temporarily. But what he did feel discouraged by was the fact that Adrian's permanent departure grew ever nearer. Once Fey began attending classes in September, Adrian would leave campus to carry on with his life. By then, he would've taught Fey most of what he knew, and would've at least helped the younger moroi grasp his abilities. It was only fair. Fey understood that he couldn't stick around to babysit him when he obviously had a lot going on outside of the school... but even so. It still made Fey feel rather sad.

At least he knew that Adrian would occasionally check up on him via spirit dreams. He did that even now, so that at least made the reality of it tolerable.

Dream walking may have been something that Fey obviously needed to work on some more before getting the hang of it, but it would be painfully modest of him to deny that he hadn't learned a lot as well.

Adrian had taught him how to heal over the months. It'd been a sign of hope for Fey, who'd believed his hands could only handle spirit darkness. But no. During lunar empowerment, he was capable of physically healing those around him. He was incapable of doing so for himself, however, which he was a bit baffled by considering he could heal his own mind. It'd taken a bit of observation, but both he and Adrian had concluded that the strength of his healing was determined by the fullness of the moon.

But the most incredible aspect of his powers that Adrian had taught him wasn't even anything he could physically teach him, but a piece of information.

He'd only ever heard vague whispers from moroi and dhampir communities while on the streets, but that hadn't stopped him from feeling so very stunned when he'd learned of the most life-changing act a spirit user could possibly do. By nature, they were more supportive than combative. They loved to heal others, and it made them feel incredible when they used their magic. But the most extraordinary feat Fey could ever imagine doing after hurting as many people as he had, was saving a tormented soul.

According to what Adrian had told him, a spirit user who wielded a silver stake charmed with their spirit magic (as well as the four other elements), was capable of restoring a strigoi to their former self.

It would take practice, of course. Fey could hardly picture himself staking any strigoi at this point in time, but it was something he would keep an open mind to. He'd never met a strigoi, nor did he desire to, but he'd heard the stories about them – about their cruelty and their sheer malice. He could only imagine how horrible it must have been to have your personality twisted and bent through the nature of the heartless strigoi... If he was one of the only moroi who could free a strigoi of such agony, then he needed to embrace that even if the thought scared him.

Fey jumped, jolting upright when a knock suddenly sounded at his door and startled him from his jumbled thoughts. He wished Adrian had taught him how to sense auras, as he might've been able to recognize who stood at his door simply with that, according to Adrian at least. The darker haired moroi always recognized his own approach, though perhaps that was because Fey, and other spirit users, each had a beautiful, golden aura.

"It's me. Open up," Adrian's muffled voice came from the other side of the door.

Speak of the devil. He was finally awake.

Fey wandered over to the door, opening it up wide enough for Adrian to step inside. He gazed up at him, observing the heavy look to his emerald green eyes. Fey reached out to take his larger hand, directing him a small smile that was a mix of both sympathy and sheepishness. "You look really tired," he began to draw darkness from him, hoping he wouldn't notice. Adrian sometimes got pretty weird about that sort of thing, seeming to feel self-conscious at the thought of having another sense the brewing darkness within him. "You shouldn't have drank so much last night."

He'd never said so aloud, but after spending as much time as he had with Adrian, he couldn't help but wonder if maybe Adrian drank to escape his darkness. Maybe it was his way of coping. Adrian had mentioned at some point that self-medicating, as well as anti-depressants were ways of coping with spirit. Though apparently such a thing cut one off from their magic temporarily. Perhaps alcohol was included within that category. It wasn't as if Adrian drank to such an extent all the time – only occasionally. But Fey was a bit concerned, nonetheless.

It didn't seem Adrian needed his aura sensory to tell what it was Fey was doing, however.

"Hey, have you already done your moonshine thing? Heal your own mind before you worry about others," Adrian drew his hand away from the other, placing it on his hip.

Fey didn't protest. He felt satisfied with how much darkness he'd taken. Instead he nodded his head in confirmation, his smile trembling faintly as the sudden overflow of darkness hit his mind like a violent wave. It took him a moment to recollect himself and keep from snapping a response. "Yeah, I went outside earlier this morning and healed. I have more than enough time to do it a second time if I need to as well, so don't feel that I'm pushing myself."

With Adrian's darkness now intact and it's overwhelming moment having settled, Fey figured that he'd be fine to wait for his own darkness to build up throughout the day before healing again anyway. If it began effecting his mood earlier then he predicted though, then he'd rid himself of it at an earlier time.

"I'm fine too, so no more of that, okay? I can handle my own spirit," Adrian remarked. But it didn't seem he was upset with him, because he gave him a typical Adrian smile soon after, gesturing for him to follow him out into the hall, "Anyhow, are you feeling up to any lessons today?" He continued when Fey gave him an eager nod of his head. "Okay, well you've already perfected healing, I think. You've made a lot of progress on lunar barriers, too. Your dream walking still needs work, but what do you say I teach you how to charm objects?"

"Like how to charm a stake!?" the young moroi asked excitedly.

Adrian chuckled, "I was thinking we'd start with something easier. Like a ring or a necklace."

Fey's face fell only faintly, though the enthusiasm to learn, even if it must be from the bottom up, shone in his eyes. He didn't really know if charming rings or necklaces would be useful for much, as Adrian hadn't covered charming objects with spirit in detail just yet. He'd heard that earth users were able to create lust charms and such, but he couldn't imagine what a spirit user could do. Would it have something to do with compulsion? Or healing maybe? He was hoping for the latter, as compulsion was still an aspect of his magic that he hoped to avoid.

As the two moroi left Fey's bedroom, Adrian added, meeting the boy's minty eyes. Fey couldn't pinpoint what it was exactly, but an almost grim tinge hung in those emerald green orbs. Adrian was going to say something, and he already knew that Fey wasn't going to like it.

"There's something else I want you to work on too," he said, his stride coming to a halt as he continued to watch Fey steadily. His gaze flickered to Fey's gloved hands. "I want you to stop wearing those gloves." He spoke carefully, working at convincing him as he noticed the flash of protest hinder Fey's facial features. The moroi's eyes went wide and he immediately went to shake his head, clasping his hands together as if Adrian would forcefully take the leather gloves if he didn't listen. "I know they make you feel comfortable, but you don't need them anymore. I've done a good job teaching you how to control it. If you ever did accidentally transfer your darkness to somebody, you know that you could take it back just as easily. Depending on the moon's fullness, you can even heal it without needing to take it into yourself."

Fey continued to shake his head, "I can't."

"Yes you can. C'mon, Artemis. The only reason you lost control of it before was because you let your emotions control it. We determined that all the times you accidentally did that was when you were flustered. Now that you know that, you can urge yourself to calm down and fix it. You know _**how **_to fix it this time. " Adrian spoke more gently than usual, placing a hand over the boy's shoulder encouragingly. Fey had come to hesitantly accept touch, primarily from him, though tended to shake it off if he was upset. Adrian was glad that he didn't this time, proving that he'd at least gotten Fey to consider it. "You can't live like this forever – feeling scared that you're going to hurt somebody. That's not a way to live. I want you to walk this school with confidence. Your abilities are amazing, and you know it. So come on. Take them off. Be proud."

Fey's inner struggle was obvious. He hesitated to speak, peering up at Adrian uncertainly as his eyebrows drew together in confusion. How could he refuse after a speech like that? Adrian seemed to believe in him, and he really didn't want to let him down. It would be an insult to his teachings.

Swallowing thickly, Fey released his hands from where they'd been locked together against his legs. Slowly, he tugged the gloves from his hands and silently handed them over to Adrian so that he wouldn't be tempted to put them back on once the older moroi left his side.

"Thanks." Adrian gave him a reassuring smile at the gesture, taking the gloves and placing them in the pockets of his designer jeans. "You'll see. It can only get better from here. You don't need to feel afraid anymore."

Fey thought that maybe such words could be true. In only a few months, his life had become significantly more enjoyable already. Maybe this really would guide him to his happy ending.

He grasped onto those words, growing more hopeful by the day as he continued to go about his days without the familiar texture of gloves covering his hands. When several days passed without his exposed hands causing any issues, Fey really did begin to believe that maybe he really was in control this time. Everything really would be okay.

But then it happened.

Fey didn't even know what had caused it, or when it had happened, or if maybe their hands had brushed, but it didn't matter. It was happening all over again. The past had come back to haunt him, shattering any and all progress he'd made thus far to escape it.

He'd been healing in the moonlight. That much he could remember. Maybe the pony-tailed guardian had startled him, breaking his concentration when he'd curiously approached him to ask what it was Fey was doing. Regardless, that same guardian now lay on the grass, whimpers leaving his lips as he clenched his jaw through the insanity that was most definitely eating away at his mind.

Midorikawa.

That was the guardian's name.

All of Fey's knowledge was swallowed up by panic as he looked down at the other with horrified eyes, silent tears trailing down his face at the terrible memories that followed after witnessing the familiar scene that brought them all back.

"I knew it wouldn't stop..." his shaking hands gradually rose to his bowed head, clutching at locks of green hair roughly. Screams of the suffering and pleas from those who'd witnessed his horrid acts consumed his thoughts, resurfacing and causing for his legs to quake underneath him. He could no longer support himself, and so dropped to the ground in a sobbing mess. His hands left his head, instead hugging themselves around his body tightly as he pleaded for it all to stop.

More screams pierced his ears, and he wasn't aware if maybe they were from his memories, from Midorikawa's heightened screams of agony, or perhaps they were even his own.

"I can't," Fey pressed his face into his knees, hoping to disappear by doing such as the pain of everything he'd done and was about to do tugged at his aching heart. "I can't do this anymore. I can't. I can't." His voice cracked, loud sobs coming from him as he squeezed his arms around himself even more tightly. What had ever stopped him from jumping out of the window that one time? What? His intent to hurt more people? He was a murderer... He needed to pay.

"Fey! Fey, look at me!" a voice snapped at him and he could suddenly feel firm hands shaking at him, gaining his attention through even the hysteria.

Fey shifted, lifting his head uncertainly. Tears blinded his sight as they continued to spill down his face, but even then, he could make out Adrian's unwavering eyes. He sniffled, ashamed that Adrian would see him for the freak that he truly was. He managed to speak thickly, his voice cracking, "I told you I'd mess up. I can't fix it. I don't know how."

"That's the panic talking," Adrian's voice was firm in an attempt to reach him, "Midorikawa's gonna be fine. I have him under compulsion, but he can't live like that forever. _**You **_can fix it. Pull yourself together. You CAN fix it because I taught you how to control it, remember?"

"I never should've stopped wearing them," Fey's eyes burned more intensely as the mere thought brought on more tears.

Adrian frowned when he realized that he was talking about the gloves. The frantic boy hadn't even processed what he'd said. "Fey!" Adrian remained adamant. "That's not true! You're letting your past control you! You're letting it control your life! But you're not Fayah Badica anymore! You're Fey Rune! What happened to starting Fey Rune's life and leaving the past behind you? You owe it to everybody Fayah Badica ever hurt! You owe it to them! You may have hurt people back then, but you're capable of making a difference now! Don't take that for granted by wasting it!"

"I...I..." Fey faltered, his teeth chattering.

Adrian's tone grew more warm. He hadn't realized that the boy was still so fragile... It would take quite some time before his emotions and guilt towards the past stabilized. For now, he needed to push him in the direction towards that recovery. He needed to help him gain confidence.

"You've got this, Moonbeam," he slowly lifted himself from his kneeling position, offering a hand out to the boy, encouraging him to stand, "I know you do. Come on. I'll help you."

Fey merely eyed the hand with misty eyes for a few seconds. His tears had ceased, and he sniffled before unwrapping his stiff arms from his body. He extended an arm out and took hold of Adrian's hand, managing to shakily pick himself up from the ground.

Once on his feet, he wiped at his sore eyes, sniffling some more before hugging his arms across his chest instead. He still looked so vulnerable, his orbs evading both Adrian and the dhampir who remained on the ground before them. Any writhing and sounds of suffering had stopped, at least. He simply just lay there.

Just as Adrian prepared to guide Fey over to the dhampir that he needed to heal, he caught sight of Hiroto. He ran across the courtyard having noticed the fallen dhampir. "Midorikawa!?" he called out worriedly, "Adrian! Fey! What happened, is he alright?"

Adrian noticed as Fey stiffened, his aura tainted by fear at what the redhead would think of him.

"He's fine. Fey's just gonna heal him," Adrian mentioned when Hiroto joined them. He gave a curious glance towards Fey, a crease appearing in his brow at the boy's state. It was obvious that he wanted to ask more questions, but Adrian continued before he had the chance. "Fey," he waved for the moroi to come closer as he knelt down next to Midorikawa, repeating, "Come here. I'll help you,"

Fey's entire body felt heavy, but he managed to make his way to Adrian's side, kneeling down next to him. He looked over Midorikawa's still body with sad eyes, his shoulders beginning to quake as a soft whimper escaped his lips at the sight. He swallowed thickly when Adrian took hold of Midorikawa's hand, drawing it closer to the greenette.

Hiroto watched, kneeling at Midorikawa's opposite side. He peered into the dhampir's face, frightened for him it seemed.

Swallowing thickly, Fey gently took Midorikawa's tanned hand into his own. He closed his eyes and attempted to concentrate the way he usually did, but the breakdown had left his mind foggy and crippled. All he could focus on were the other victims he could so clearly see against the black of his shut eyelids.

"Relax," Adrian's voice soothed him, reaching him even through all of the excessive thoughts. "Just think about healing him. He's depending on you."

Fey's lashes fluttered, but his eyes did not open.

_'You did this. Make it right. Stop being so pathetic. You can do this.' _

His porcelain fingers squeezed around Midorikawa's hand as he struggled with the thoughts and memories that continued to bombard him. But even so, somehow, he felt the spark of darkness once his mind brushed it. He eagerly sapped it back into himself, feeling it rush his mind and cause his thoughts to grow all the murkier.

Not even the moon above was enough to overpower the overwhelming emotions that had been present since his breakdown. Spirit only intensified such feelings, tainting them even more so.

He released Midorikawa's hand with a gasp once the last of it left the dhampir's body.

Fey took a few shaky breathes, his eyes fluttering as if he was struggling just to keep them open. His hands had gone limp at his sides.

"See? I told you that you could do it." Adrian took hold of the boy's shoulder to support him. "You okay?"

"I feel sick..."

Adrian gave him a light smile, "Don't worry. Breakdowns are exhausting enough as it is, and yet you managed to use spirit afterwards. It's probably a mix of both. Just heal. We're under the moonlight. Go ahead. It'll make you feel a whole lot better, I bet."

Hiroto scooped Midorikawa into his arms, cradling him. He stirred slightly, but hadn't fully regained consciousness. "Thank you, Fey. I'm going to take him to the infirmary. Take care of yourself and make sure to get checked as well. That is, if the moon doesn't help."

"Okay..." Fey weakly responded.

He then peered up into the moon, sighing a bit before letting it's light heal him.

* * *

_Present - St. Vladimir's Academy, Montana – Age: 16 – Late October - Last Quarter Moon_

* * *

Fey beamed as he caught the ball with the side of his foot, sending it into the air so that he could perform a few tricks before sending it over to Kyousuke.

They'd recently come back from the feeding room, as dinner had just passed. Fey had been released from the academy's infirmary the other day, though only once he'd convinced them that he hadn't been starving himself in an attempt to cause intended harm. Tenma had promised to join him whenever he fed as well, which eased minds.

As touched as he was, Fey wasn't exactly proud of the entire situation. He was a bit peeved, actually. He couldn't believe he'd let himself grow so weak when faced with an acquaintance of his father. Now he'd involved Tenma, and the dhampir would worry no matter what he did by this point.

He was stronger than this. He knew that... yet...

But he tried not to think about it all too much, especially considering the exam was just around the corner. Tenma definitely wouldn't be assigned to him. The chances were far too slim for him to even hope on it. But that was okay. Six weeks would give Fey enough time to hopefully vanquish Tenma's worry. He'd recollect himself in that time, proving to Tenma that he'd be fine to feed on his own and such.

But for now, such thoughts were pushed to the back of his mind as he, Kyousuke and Tenma kicked Tenma's soccer ball back and fourth. The winter approached, and the air was chilly – causing most students to spend time in either their dorm rooms, or within the school.

"So your brother headed back home now?" Tenma asked as he received the soccer ball and then passed it to Fey, "He was really nice."

Fey added to that with a cheerful nod of his head, "Does your family live in Court, Kyousuke?"

Court was where the Monarch lived, but other royals lived in the residential district also. He vaguely remembered being brought to Court a few times when he was younger. His dad had owned a few houses across the USA, one of which being in Court.

From what he could remember, it'd been nice. Not to mention safe. Both Court and St. Vladimir's Academy were two of the most secure locations in the entire US.

"Yeah, my family just moved to Court a few years back," Kyousuke replied. "My brother insisted he go back so that I focus on my studies..." he didn't seem to like the thought of being babied, even by his older brother, "But he really liked you both, and hopes to see you again."

That probably especially applied to Tenma considering the dhampir was training to hopefully become Kyousuke's guardian. If it all went as planned, Tenma would be moving to Court with them. Fey couldn't ignore the prickle he felt in his chest at the thought.

"I assumed you'd always lived there," Tenma frowned at the new piece of knowledge, "I'd always thought that my dad lived in Court with you guys. But he didn't? You lived somewhere else when you were his charge?"

Fey couldn't blame Tenma for being so curious, but he didn't understand how the dhampir could be so open when it came to speaking about his father...

Kyousuke's golden eyes fell on Tenma as he caught the soccer ball they'd continued to pass around with his heel, freezing it in place. He kept it underneath his foot as he spoke in his usual low tone of voice. "When your dad protected us we lived in Portland."

"But I thought royals tended to stay in Court considering it's safe there."

It didn't seem Tenma had paid close enough attention to his Moroi Culture class...

Fey wanted to tell him to stop being nosey, but held back considering this technically _did _concern his dad. Instead, he helped Kyousuke out by answering in his stead, smiling as he helpfully explained, "Yeah, but a lot of royals own more then one house. They sometimes have homes in different states. Even different countries. Even then, not every royal owns a house in Court. Think about it, Tenma. If every royal was in Court all the time, why would we-" he corrected himself, his eye twitching, "_They. _Why would _they _need guardians if they were protected in wards all the time?"

Not that wards were indestructible. They'd been breached in the past.

"Fey's right, but because my family's only half-royal, we were never a high priority to begin with," Kyousuke mentioned, much to Fey and Tenma's surprise. For Fey, it was less shocking because he understood how shallow royals and their traditional rules could be. Not all royals were that way, of course. It wouldn't be fair to slap a label on every single one of them, especially when Fey knew he was one of them. But it always felt as if the royals with influence were selfish.

Their Queen, however, was gradually trying to make moroi, and even dhampir culture a lot more equal.

Tenma frowned. "That's not right..."

"No, Tenma. It isn't," Fey agreed. He obviously didn't say such, but preparing the Tsurugi family with a home in Court years back could've been enough to save the life of Tenma's father. He wasn't sure whether Tenma had realized this yet or not...

Kyousuke didn't add to that, and Tenma sensed that he wasn't up to speaking any further about it. Fey figured that it was for the same reason that had crossed his own mind. He didn't want Tenma to realize what they had. It would only hurt him.

Worried that maybe he'd upset him, the brunette smiled, approaching Kyousuke where he continued to stand with the soccer ball at his feet. "Did you want to talk more about your brother?" he asked hopefully, "Are you going to go back home over the Christmas break? You both seemed so close, so I can't imagine that you wouldn't." Tenma noticed he was rambling, as he already knew quite well that Kyousuke _always _went back home for the holidays. "I hope Yuuichi's injury recovers by then."

Fey's heart skipped a beat. "Tenma!" he spoke up before he even realized it, shushing the dhampir frantically. He couldn't keep from thinking that Tenma should have understood better than anybody just how delicate family matters could be. It was best not to pry. "We should mind our own business!"

"It's okay," Fey looked from Tenma to Kyousuke, his index finger withdrawing from his lips as he watched the fire user's golden eyes look Tenma up and down. A serious glint shone within their depths. And something else that Fey couldn't identify? Affection? "Tenma deserves to know."

Tenma's eyes brightened with curiosity, a thirst to know whether it had anything to do with his father, most likely. Or perhaps Kyousuke had meant that Tenma deserved to know because he saw him as a branch of his family now...

A pit formed within Fey's stomach at the topic that seemed so personal to the two, and he suddenly felt as if he were intruding, and that he really shouldn't be there to overhear. They hadn't told him to leave though... so he remained where he stood, furrowing his eyebrows slightly and beginning to fidget with his fingers.

Tenma cocked his head, looking up into Kyousuke's eyes. He almost looked compelled to touch the side of the taller's face, as if to encourage the words from him. Fey was relieved when Tenma decided against it.

"When I lived in Portland, there was an incident," Kyousuke's eyes met Tenma's steel ones, uncertainty swimming within them. He hesitated before continuing, "Tenma, that incident was where your father died..."

A stunned silence followed those words, and Fey found his gaze flying to Tenma out of concern. He carefully took in Tenma's facial features, watching as his lips pressed together in a tight line and his silver eyes seemed to dull as a solemn look overtook them. They narrowed ever so slightly and it almost looked as if the world had come to a halt around him. Fey wouldn't have been surprised if Tenma's heart had stopped beating in his chest.

He seemed to take a sharp breath before recollecting himself, prepared to listen to what it was Kyousuke was willing to disclose to him about his dad. Growing up in a dhampir coven with a relative of his, Tenma hadn't seen all too much of his father (to the point where he hadn't even known where his charge took place), but he respected him nonetheless. He'd keep his head up high while Kyousuke told him of his noble actions, proud that his father had given his everything to protect the Tsurugi family.

"Can you tell me about it?" the dhampir hadn't ever asked Kyousuke many questions about what had happened. But he'd always been thirsty to know the details of how his father had passed on. As a guardian, he imagined it was a grisly death. But the brunette liked to think that maybe he'd gone peacefully... as naive as that belief may have been.

"Maybe we should sit down first," Fey stepped closer to them both, gesturing towards the fountain. He continued to feel rather intruding, and the fact that both Kyousuke and Tenma stood so closely together like that made the prickle in his chest all the more noticeable. But he was worried for Tenma. Tenma had been there for him during his darker, more personal moments, and he wished to do the same for him, whether Kyousuke was closer to him or not.

Tenma's gaze finally tore away from Kyousuke's golden one as he met Fey's eyes and nodded. He smiled, which warmed Fey's envious heart.

Kyousuke retrieved the soccer ball that continued to lay at his feet, lightly pressing his free hand against Tenma's back as the three of them wandered over to the fountain and sat upon it's edge. Tenma sat in the center, Kyousuke and Fey flanking each of his sides. He'd taken the soccer ball from the fire user, placing it within his lap and then placing two tanned hands on either of it's sides. A light smile occupied his lips as he peered down at it.

"I'm not sad, you know," Tenma suddenly spoke, his voice soft. He gave them both a reassuring look before redirecting silver orbs to the ball in his lap. How fitting that it be here for him during this moment. It'd been the one friend that'd gotten him through everything else that'd led up to this after all. "I'm proud more than I am sad. This is a moment I'm sure he'd want me to hear about. I've been wanting to learn more about him too. I'm..." he thought about how to word it, "_happy _that I get to hear about it. So don't look so sad, okay? Everything always works out somehow."

"Tenma..." a small smile found it's way to Fey's face.

Kyousuke smiled briefly himself, "If that's how you want to remember him, then I'll respect that outlook. What happened was tragic, but I'll always be grateful for what he did for us. If it weren't for your father, Tenma, I probably would have lost my brother."

Fey figured as much. Yuuichi's injury had led up to this conversation, so he knew that Tenma's father's death must have been linked to it somehow.

"A strigoi attacked us at our home," Kyousuke continued, the appreciation disappearing from his eyes as he must have been recalling the memories of what had happened. His hand trembled in his lap, almost unnoticeable, but it didn't get past Tenma's honed dhampir senses. He steadied it by placing his own hand over top of Kyousuke's paler knuckles. His thumb made slow circles across the back of the dark haired moroi's hand. "I was pretty young, but I remember how scary it all seemed. I'd only ever heard stories..."

Fey shifted uncomfortably where he sat, compassionate eyes glued to Kyousuke as he listened to his words intently. Stories of strigoi always made him feel extremely lucky for escaping Colorado, let alone making it to New York City, with his life. How had he managed that? He couldn't fathom just how he'd survived, especially at hearing the stories from families who hadn't been as fortunate. It didn't make sense when they'd been living their ordinary lives in the homes that felt safe, when he himself had basically thrown himself into the face of danger.

Kyousuke continued after a slight pause, his voice a tone quieter than usual. Regardless, he spoke as coolly as he usually did. Fey wondered if Tenma's effort to comfort him had been the cause for his calm demeanour, or if maybe he was capable of keeping himself composed either way. Now that he thought about it, Fey couldn't remember ever seeing him truly rattled.

"Your dad," golden eyes met Tenma's passionate ones, "He was our only guardian, and he did the best that he could to protect all four of us. I'd been with my parents. They were scolding me... something about how I'd stayed out after dark." He shuddered at the possibility that maybe he had led the strigoi to his home, though was unwilling to share such a thought with the other two. "Yuuichi was upstairs in our room... and while your dad fought off the two strigoi on the lower level, we never imagined that there was a third. Your dad kept the other two busy as he commanded my parents to take me and take shelter, but I panicked at the thought that we might have to leave my brother behind and so ran upstairs to where my brother was."

He paused and Tenma squeezed at his hand.

"Your dad sensed it before any of us, yelling at me to get back as he staked one of the two strigoi he was locked in combat with. The second one was older, and held him back long enough for me to reach my brother. The third strigoi had already made it upstairs. I guess he hadn't realized that Yuuichi was there, because he was lurking, as if waiting for me. Before I knew it, he had me in his arms, grabbing me as he went to bite my neck."

"But Yuuichi sprang out from where he must have been hiding behind the bedroom door, lunging for the strigoi in an attempt to protect me. He hadn't specialized yet... so that was all he could do. But the strigoi sensed him far before he even made contact. I was released in the process, but... Yuuichi's reckless behaviour caught the attention and amusement of the strigoi. They're sadists, after all..."

Fey found himself holding his breath at what he knew was coming.

"I think the strigoi wanted to take Yuuichi as a prisoner. So he shattered my brother's legs, permanently paralysing him," Kyousuke's voice grew significantly more bitter and the hand that Tenma continued to shelter with his palm balled into a fist, "I suppose he didn't want him to struggle or runaway. Not that a strigoi couldn't have stopped him, regardless" He inhaled, the anger at the memory fading as his voice dropped, "I don't remember it all too well after that... Just that your dad must have killed the last remaining strigoi downstairs, because before I knew it, he was in front of me, plunging his stake into the third strigoi's heart. Your dad must have taken a few fatal hits while downstairs with my parents though, because I remember him bleeding really heavily. Back then, I thought that maybe it'd been strigoi blood smeared on his clothes... but..."

Tenma really did extend an arm out to cup the moroi's face this time, cutting him off with a warm tone that Fey swore could've belonged only to an angel. "You don't have to say anymore."

Fey looked away when Tenma leaned forward slightly, seeming to whisper words of comfort, reassurance and sweet nothings into the dark haired moroi's ear.

Fey faintly shook his head, his face hot as he stared into his lap with hard eyes.

_'What the heck is your heart thudding so loudly for? It isn't your business. Besides, Kyousuke spills parts of his past for Tenma's sake, and all you can think about is your childish jealousy? This doesn't even have anything to do with whether Tenma would become my guardian or not. You're selfish... just like papa.' _

Tenma was probably just grateful that Kyousuke had shared such a difficult topic with them. He was just making sure Kyousuke was okay. Fey kept telling himself that he didn't need to take notice of it.

"My dad... I'm grateful for what he did, of course. He sounds amazing." Tenma's voice was gentle when he finally withdrew from the fire user, though it was laced with the faintest hint of disappointment, "But... when the third stirgoi got inside and he told you, your mom and your dad to find shelter, he wasn't willing to let your brother get hurt in order to protect the rest of your family... was he?"

Kyousuke shook his head, "No. Your father's senses were some of the sharpest I've ever seen in a dhampir. I think he _knew _that the third strigoi was simply waiting for an opportunity to take down either me, my mother, or my father. He was overwhelmed, but he was so very impressive, Tenma."

Swallowing thickly after having been left out of the conversation, Fey asked thoughtfully, hoping to display his own concern for the fire user who he viewed as his friend, regardless of how he felt about Tenma becoming his guardian, "Is it because of that incident that you sometimes join me during combat training?" Of course, Kyousuke focused on bettering his fire magic, rather than develop any sort of combative skills like staking. Without spirit, it wouldn't prove useful unless he endured many years of training, and even then... A small smile tugged at Fey's lips as he added, "You want to get strong to protect your brother, don't you?"

He thought it was incredibly sweet.

"Yes, I do," Kyousuke looked towards Tenma, that same serious look from before burning within his golden pools as he continued, correcting the greenette, "But I also want to be able to protect Tenma." The dhampir's eyes widened at the revelation, confusion written in his brow. He'd opened his mouth to protest, most likely hoping to declare that _he_ was the guardian and that he'd work hard to protect them both, but Kyousuke silenced him by placing his index finger upon his lips. "I'd rather be able to help Tenma then watch helplessly from the sidelines. I don't care what anybody says, moroi or dhampir, we're equals."

More and more moroi were jumping onto that bandwagon by the day, and it seemed Kyousuke Tsurugi had joined that faction without them even realizing it.

Fey, being a royal moroi, wished he could use his influence to support the faction of those who believed moroi should learn to defend themselves. But being a spirit user, he couldn't help but feel bitter that he couldn't even use his magic for battle the way Kyousuke could. He was delighted that Tenma was interested in becoming the guardian for a family who didn't look down on him simply because he was a dhampir, and he was glad that Kyousuke would be able to look out for him and watch his back. But he couldn't help but realize that if Tenma had ever chosen to become his guardian rather than Kyousuke's, that he wouldn't have even been able to do the same for him... He was useless... only useful for healing and keeping himself from going crazy.

Fire, however, was the most useful magic in a battle involving strigoi.

Sure he could save a strigoi, so long as he possessed the technique and skill to stake one without getting himself killed first. But when it really came down to it, how would he protect those he loved?

"Fey?" Tenma called his name, scanning him with troubled eyes after positively responding to Kyousuke's sentiment. He felt that it was his duty to protect him. The importance of a moroi's protection, as well as the saying 'they come first,' had been drilled into any dhampir's head who trained to become a guardian. But even so, a faint glow had dusted his flawless cheeks at his future charge's sweet words. He'd always trusted Kyousuke, however. Tenma _knew _that they had one another's backs, and he'd never deny Kyousuke of his right to protect those he loved just because he was moroi. Moroi or dhampir, Tenma believed that feeling passionately about another was reason enough to stand by their side, no matter what. As much as his teachings screamed at him from the dusty corner of his mind that it was wrong, he and Kyousuke would protect one another under equal terms.

Fey retreated from the thoughts that told him how useless he was at the call of his name, forcing a smile as he looked into the silver eyes that seemed to glitter in the moonlight. "Hm?"

"Are you okay, Fey?"

"What?" the greenette smiled wider, "Of course. Sorry, I guess I must look tired?"

It didn't show on his face, but Fey couldn't keep from feeling annoyed with himself. He knew that if it weren't for the entire 'starvation thing' that Tenma wouldn't have been so worried about him at even the slightest action. He was frustrated for making the dhampir worry so unnecessarily. What made Fey cringe at the entire situation even more so was the fact that Tenma had only just been told of both his father's harsh death and the trauma that his future charge had endured as a child. Yet here he was concerned for _him_?

It aggravated the greenette to no end.

God, did he ever regret letting himself succumb to the despair that woman had caused him. Why had he been so ridiculously stupid?

"Alright," Tenma gave him a lighter look, "So long as you're okay." He peered up at Kyousuke, cheerfully asking him, "Right?"

Kyousuke responded coolly, "Yeah. Thanks for listening, Fey. You're always willing to listen to other people, but don't hesitate if you ever need to talk."

Fey grew rigid at the reply, as much as he wished to feel touched by it. But apart of him couldn't help but feel suspicious. Had Tenma told him about what had happened with him the day he'd collapsed in the guardian's gym? Or maybe other students had seen and were spreading rumours, which Kyousuke had managed to grasp onto? He wasn't sure, but what he did understand was that he wasn't fond of the feeling. He didn't want anybody but Tenma to know of his personal information. It wasn't their business. Not even Kyousuke's...

He didn't mind it when others needed to confide in him. Not at all. He'd always lend an ear, even for a stranger. But his own business was a completely different story. One that was most likely stemmed from his trust issues, as well as the fact that growing up, he'd never had anybody to talk to. Keeping matters to himself was simply what he'd grown accustomed to. At times, it was difficult even still for him to share certain tidbits of information with Tenma, regardless of the boundless trust he felt for him. He would trust Tenma with his life... but even so, he'd never told him of the darkest moment of his life. He'd never told him of the self harm, and the attempted suicide. How could he? Things were fine as they were now anyway? Why should something so trivial matter anymore?

"Thanks," Fey grinned, regardless of his feelings, "The same goes for me too, okay?" He stood from the fountain with a stretch, cradling his arms behind his head after sending them skyward. Looking down at Kyousuke and Tenma like this made him realize just how cozy the two of them appeared as they sat side-by-side. He tried to expel the thought from his mind. "But I think I'm gonna head back to my dorm room for the night. It's cold." He looked towards Tenma, beaming, "But I'm looking forward to tomorrow, Tenma!"

"Yes!" Tenma raised his clenched fists excitedly, "Be super excited! I'm gonna bring so much candy with me, and plus your birthday cake and gift! I can't wait!"

"You're both such rebels," Kyousuke chuckled, "Be sure not to get caught."

"No guardian is gonna be crashing my birthday party," Fey mocked his best rebel voice, though it crumbled into laughter partway through, "Otherwise, I won't be making them anymore moon rings."

Tenma laughed along with him before the three of them said their good nights. Fey wandered off in the direction of the moroi dorms, realizing that Tenma and Kyousuke weren't seeming to budge from the fountain. They'd be staying there, it seemed. They looked quite comfortable, so it was probably to be expected.

As he made his way into his dorm room, Fey flicked the light switch on. He went to change into his pyjamas, but stopped where he stood when his eyes fell upon his laptop. It'd been a few days since he'd sent out his reply to Red Lagoon, but he hadn't heard anything back just yet.

Curious, Fey neglected his desire to get into his pyjamas and decided to check his emails.

He logged into his email, any excitement that he'd felt towards checking them having faded over the past few days. He wondered if maybe this Red Lagoon had been pulling his leg after all. Hence why his heart fluttered in surprise when he saw the new unread email from the mysterious tumblr user at the very top of his list of new, bolded emails.

Eagerly, he clicked it, eyes processing the text before him as that said excitement that had diminished returned to him. All the while, paired with such curious excitement was an emotion that he couldn't place his finger on. Wariness? Distrust? The fear of getting his hopes up to only be disappointed?

* * *

_To: LostMirror _

_Subject: Lost Mirror_

_Curious one, aren't you? You seem quite eager, so let's get down to business, shall we? I'm not able to list any book titles at this very moment, but I can look into a few for you. Though I must say, Mister Asurei Badica is a very curious topic. I don't know what would make you suspect a connection between the two, but I've done some digging, and let's just say that I could ask him personally for you, if need be. He's a difficult man to track, but it's possible for one with many resources at his disposal._

* * *

Fey quickly sorted out his feelings towards the alchemist at that. Distrust. Definitely distrust. That, and anger. He couldn't keep from re-reading it over and over again, his eyes narrowing as they skimmed that last bit.

Alchemists knew where his father was!?

Anger may have surfaced at such a revelation, though an emotion that he tried not to acknowledge soothed it somewhat. That being relief.

Papa was alive.

He wasn't dead like everybody else had believed.

Fey sat there in his computer chair, sagging into it as he processed the information given to him. It was the first indication of his father's state that he'd heard since he'd left. Fey had heard rumours that he'd spent some time in Court after leaving Fey at their home in San Francisco. He didn't know whether it was true or not. Only their previous Monarch and the other members of the moroi counsel could answer that. But presently, it didn't seem as if anybody knew where he resided.

Everyone had assumed he'd disappeared once leaving the wards. A plot devised by strigoi.

Fey bit his lower lip, conflicted by the news. He was relieved, yes, but why should he be? He should hate that man. He **_did _**hate that man. There wasn't a single shred of love towards him left in his empty heart.

"I'm doing this for _me_," Fey reminded himself, trying to cool his head. But it was impossible. The simple words had left his emotions bubbling, unable to settle down. "I'm doing this to get my mirror back. It's to help me with my spirit abilities. That's all. He owes me that much, at least. This has nothing to do with him... Even if he's still alive, I don't ever want to see him again."

Flustered with overwhelming amounts of resentment, aspiration, confusion, sourness, heartache, and even a faint pang of bliss, Fey took to his keyboard. His fingers flew upon it's surface, his puzzled heart forming words for him.

* * *

_To: RedLagoon _

_Subject: Lost Mirror_

_Before we go on: could you please tell me what's in this for you? There has to be a reason, but I just can't figure out what. It doesn't make much sense for an Alchemist to go out of their way for something like this. But what I'm more curious about is your familiarity with Prince Badica. You can actually find out where he is? How? Alchemist secrets or not, doesn't the moroi counsel deserve to know about this? Even better – scratch that. _

_Why hasn't the selfish bastard come back and let us all know that he's okay?_

* * *

With an exasperated sigh, Fey hit the send button, wondering if maybe it would be more relieving to him if Red Lagoon informed him that his papa was no longer alive after all...

_'You can't even leave me be in my new life, can you?' _

God, whether it was through his past, his dreams, or even through a complete and utter stranger, that damned man loved to haunt him.

* * *

_Three Years Previous – St. Vladimir's Academy, Montana – Age: 14 - November_

* * *

Narrowed minty orbs peered down at the bottle of pills that sat in his palm, his stomach clenching in protest. In contradiction, his fingers closed around it's foggily transparent surface, rattling the bottle as his second hand went to pry the lid off.

_'This is the best choice for everybody. It doesn't matter what I think.' _

Several capsule shaped pills spilled into his hand as his eyes grew harder at the mere sight of them. His entire body screaming for him to refuse, Fey took a single pill in-between his thumb and index finger, quickly bringing it to his mouth and forcing it through trembling lips before swallowing thickly.

He wanted to gag, sickened that something so small made him feel so miserable.

With an exasperated sigh, Fey slipped each of the pills back into their cylinder shaped container before taking in the glowing numbers on the digital clock that stood on the surface of his bedside table. He'd slept in quite late, as it was the weekend.

It was already dark outside, he realized when he looked towards the window. He pulled back it's curtain, troubled eyes locking with the silver moon that hung above with the several twinkling stars that painted the ebony sky. Normally, he would find comfort in it's light. But since September, it had brought him absolutely nothing but immense amounts of frustration.

He just couldn't bring himself to grow accustomed to knowing of it's presence, yet not being able to _feel _it. There was nothing there. He felt empty.

Fey knew that the pills were at fault ; that they hadn't severed his connection, but had simply blocked it. The pills may have steadied his spirit darkness and the mood swings influenced from it, but only by disconnecting him from his magic.

Without it, he felt so lost... so completely miserable.

But he didn't have a choice. After Adrian had left in September, he'd asked Fubuki – his therapist – to put him on some medication. With Adrian's absence, he just couldn't bring himself to feel confident enough to handle his dark touch. Not on his own. But this way, with his magic blocked, he didn't need to worry. His dark touch was cut off, just like the rest of his abilities.

It was silly... because since his breakdown, Adrian had focused on helping him grow more comfortable with his darker ability. He'd gained confidence, and he _knew_ that he could control it. But with Adrian gone, who would help him if he suffered another breakdown? If he mentally collapsed like that again, would it make a difference whether he knew how to fix the issue or not?

It wasn't worth the risk. It wasn't as if he _needed _his magic anyway. It wasn't a necessity, just a desire.

Hugging his arms around himself, Fey left his spot at the window and wandered over to his bed. Since taking the pills, his life had fallen into a sort of depressing schedule: get up ; get ready ; take meds; have breakfast ; go to class ; break for lunch ; have shared classes with the dhampirs ; attend therapist appointment ; go back to dorm room alone ; have dinner ; maybe do some reading or surf the internet ; and then go to bed.

Loneliness was all the more crushing when the moon had even managed to drift away from him, unable to caress him with it's soothing, white light in an attempt to remind him that he wasn't ever alone.

And just as he'd foretold, he hadn't been able to make any friends either...

As lonely as his routine was, it was all the more noticeable on his days off. He felt all the colder. At the mere thought, his arms embraced his frame more tightly, his fingernails digging into the skin of his upper arm.

_'I need to get out of here and do something.' _

With another sigh, Fey managed to lifelessly pick himself up from where he sat on his bed. He'd drive himself crazy even without the assistance of spirit at this rate.

_'The library. Why don't you go to the library?' _

Having gotten dressed and such before taking his pill, Fey packed his laptop and headed out the door. That room had begun to feel almost suffocating, only reminding him of just how dejected he was. Maybe if he was around other students, whether he interacted with them or not, he would at least be able to fill up the hole in his heart, even if it was just temporary.

Fey stopped by the crowded cafeteria before making his way to the library, drinking some blood from one of the feeders and than grabbing a small container of applesauce, afterwards. Fubuki had recommended that he take his medication with food, and so he'd decided that he best have breakfast before occupying himself with anything else. Otherwise, he probably would have waited for lunch, by that point.

Once the despondent moroi consumed the smooth and pulpy sauce that had been sweetened with what tasted almost like cinnamon, he found his way to the library and traced a hand along it's aisles of books. He'd been here countless times, using the school's resources for research.

The thought that had struck him back in New York lingered within him, even still.

He needed to know how his father had known of his spirit abilities at a point too early in time for it to even be possible. Though he convinced himself that finding out what he could about the Moonheart mirror was much more significant, especially if it could aid him with the abilities he'd now developed.

It was a long shot, but he was hopeful that there would be a textbook of some kind that would guide him to his much needed answers. A school involved with the supernatural must have carried books on legends and such, one of which being a legend about a magical mirror.

Fey entered a new aisle, carefully reading the titles on the spines of each book as he passed them. "It's likely that Moonheart was charmed somehow. So I'm sure this section should -" his voice cut out abruptly as he suddenly stumbled, his head snapping up in surprise at the dhampir who had suddenly bumped into him. The greenette hissed, clenching his jaw as a hot substance splattered onto his shirt, seeping through the fabric and searing porcelain skin underneath. Fey examined the mess with a dropped jaw, realizing that the dhampir hadn't only walked into him, but he'd spilt hot chocolate, or coffee all over him as well.

The moroi snapped automatically, his minty orbs narrowing into a glower, "Way to go, idiot!"

His rage dissolved after holding a steady glare for a few moments, replaced with guilt when he absorbed the panicked, apologetic face of the dhampir. His mouth opened and closed, as if struggling for the proper words as he hoped to make it up to the moroi for what he had done.

Fey's eyebrows knitted together slightly and a deep frown tugged at his lips. It hadn't been right for him to lash out through the misery he felt at taking his meds. It didn't give him the right to take it out on anybody.

"S-sorry," the greenette began sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his head, "I didn't mean to freak out on you like that..."

But the dhampir shook his head wildly, a panicked look in his silver eyes as he fumbled with his paper coffee cup – the one that was now empty. "No! _**I'm **_sorry! I'm the one who walked into you, and now I've gone and ruined your sweater. Please, let me give you some money for a new one! Or at least let me try and wash it out for you."

"Don't worry about it," Fey smiled, hoping to communicate that he really didn't mind and that the dhampir didn't need to appear so dismayed, "I wasn't paying much attention either. I was looking out for a book, so it was partially my fault too."

He frowned, "Even so... I'm fine. You're the one who had hot chocolate spilled all over you..."

"Really, it's okay," Fey's smile brightened into a grin as he cocked his head ever so slightly, "If it's because I snapped at you, that was my own fault. It's not an excuse, but I haven't really been myself lately. I'm really sorry that you had to witness that. Take your hot chocolate as the karma for my bad attitude."

The dhampir boy reluctantly nodded his head, his uncertainty and guilt written all over his face, even once accepting Fey's words. "O-only if you're sure. But is it alright if I still try to make it up to you?" Fey's lips parted as he went to reassure the dhampir that he honestly didn't need to. He was beginning to wonder if this boy thought he may have been a royal, and was afraid that Fey would tarnish his reputation somehow. But the dhampir managed to utter beforehand, "You said you were trying to find a book, right? I could help you look for it, if you'd like?"

The notion was a nice one, but Fey found himself shaking his head lightly. He suddenly felt a bit embarrassed at the thought of sharing his belief in a magical mirror so openly. Would it be strange even within supernatural culture? Probably not, considering it was likely that a 'magical mirror' was simply an object that had been charmed with moroi magic. But even so... He'd never imagined openly speaking to anybody before. Everybody had left him to his own business, and he'd left them to theirs. Now that he'd been thrown into the unexpected situation, he was quite taken aback and wasn't completely sure of how to respond.

"Thanks, but I don't even know any specific titles. I'm just browsing," Fey smiled sweetly, trying to hide his self-consciousness. Not many people had approached him since classes had begun in September. He only hoped he seemed natural enough considering over the past few months, he'd taken extreme notice of his... _social condition_. He'd never been around those his own age before. Or at least not since he was extremely little. Because of which, he couldn't help but wonder if his ability to socialize was suffering. Did he seem awkward? Anti-social? Weird? He figured the meds definitely weren't helping with any sort of impressions.

"I don't really read all too much, so I don't know how much help I'd be," the dhampir finally returned a smile, seeming to recover from his prior shame rather quickly. His need to be helpful radiated off him, however, and Fey wasn't sure what it would take to shake him off. "But why don't you tell me what sort of book you're looking for. Does it have a particular plot? Are you looking for one you've already read, though can't recall it's title? Or are you just looking for whatever seems interesting? Whatever it is, I really don't mind helping you look."

Fey couldn't keep from thinking that the dhampir seemed just a tad bit pushy.

"Hmmm," Fey's smile left his face as his lips pressed together in thought. It didn't seem the boy would take no for an answer, and it wasn't as if he should be all too embarrassed anyway. It wasn't as if he'd be meeting with the dhampir again after this. It didn't matter what other people thought of him.

Fey hesitated, "It's... I'm looking for a book about charmed objects. A mirror, actually." Fey wasn't sure whether he should say it by name or not, as he wasn't certain on whether Moonheart was an official term, or just one his father had made up.

"A moroi would probably know more about it then me," the dhampir gave off a sheepish look, "But you know what? I've met two moroi who tend to spend their time here in the library, and they're really smart! The other freshman have been going to them for advice a lot, and they're always willing to help." He blinked in sudden realization. "Umm, sorry if you're a Sophomore or something! I just assumed you were also a freshman..."

"I am," Fey smiled. He didn't admit such, but he was fresher than even the freshman considering he'd never even attended classes within the Elementary campus. Most vampires had been sent to school since they were incredibly young. Fey was lucky that Gouenji had allowed for him to attend classes with students his own age. They could've turned around and told him that his education was lacking, and that he'd need to attend Elementary level classes first. But luckily they hadn't done anything of the sort.

To be honest, he was struggling with the school work a little bit, but he'd read enough books and attended enough royal gatherings with his father to keep himself from being completely ignorant. He was holding his own just fine.

"I guess it wouldn't have really mattered," the dhampir boy giggled, "I just didn't want to sound disrespectful. But more importantly, you should go and ask those moroi I mentioned about the charmed mirror! They'd know for certain!" He excitedly pointed towards the small lounging area that had been formed towards the back of the library. Tables stood nearby for those who had laptops, or wished to complete school work. "They're right over there! They're names are Kazuto Minaho and Jinichirou Manabe. If anybody can help you find your mirror, it's them!"

Fey followed the boy's raised index finger, his eyes taking in the two moroi who sat at one of the many tables, books open before them. One of the moroi was easy to spot, even from where Fey stood, as his hair was a bright shade of ginger. His fingers stroked at his chin, resting there as if cupping it, as the thumb of said hand rested along his jawline.

The second moroi sat next to the ginger, his hair a light shade of lavender. He adjusted the glasses on his face before redirecting his attention to the book he seemed engrossed in.

"Those two over there?" Fey grinned, his minty orbs making their way back to the silver eyed dhampir. "Thanks! I'll be sure to talk to them."

"Glad to help! Good luck!"

With that, the two went their separate ways. It seemed the dhampir had places to be, considering he hurried off. Fey did the same, leaving the library before choosing to confront Minaho and Manabe as he wished to change his shirt before approaching them. He felt fairly self-conscious, hoping that people wouldn't remember him as the moroi who'd had hot chocolate spilt on his shirt... especially when he hadn't done anything to draw attention thus far. If he was going to break through his barrier and at least attempt to speak with other students, then he hoped to leave a positive impression.

As the greenette placed his laptop bag onto his bed while he changed, the fact that he'd never caught that dhampir's name drifted to the surface of his mind. Wouldn't it have been the polite thing to do? To exchange names? He'd been so helpful...

_'Oh well. I guess this just proves that you're a complete social reject.' _

He swiftly shrugged it off, realizing that he most likely wouldn't be seeing the dhampir a second time anyway. Apparently he was a freshman, and it was very possible that they shared classes together – the mixed classes after lunch – but Fey couldn't recall if he'd ever seen him before. He hadn't paid too much attention... The other students had already formed their friend circles and such anyway, so it wasn't as if it'd make a difference if Fey remembered their names and faces or not.

Concluding that it didn't matter, Fey hastily returned to the library, eager eyes searching the lounging area for Minaho and Manabe. He would've been so disappointed if they'd decided to leave while he'd gone to change.

But luckily, they remained where he'd last seen them – their body language the same as when he'd left. It was clear that the one wearing glasses was fixated on his book, but the ginger haired moroi on the other hand, seemed to be letting his green gaze wander the library.

Feeling slightly bashful, Fey ran his hands along his new shirt in an attempt to smooth it out before approaching the table. He gripped his hands around the strap of his laptop bag, a friendly smile brightening his facial expression. It quivered only faintly when the observant ginger haired moroi took notice of his approach before even reaching the edge of their table.

"Hello," the ginger said, his eyes seeming to look him up and down – examining anything and everything about him. Fey felt uneasy under such a gaze. "It seems you have something to say?"

Fey nodded his head eagerly, Manabe lifting his head from his book at the sound of their voices. He readjusted his glasses again before also seeming to look him over. "Umm, yeah! You're Kazuto Minaho and Jinichirou Manabe, right? I heard that you're both very knowledgeable, so I was hoping that you could help me with something."

"Yes, I'm Manabe, and this one here's Minaho," said the boy with the flippy lavender hair and spectacles. "So long as it isn't idiotic, go ahead and state what it is your problem seems to be."

Fey sat across from them as they gestured for him to take a seat.

Minaho tilted his head slightly, adding in a friendlier tone then his moroi partner, "I'll be willing to listen either way." He seemed quite fascinated, almost as if the spirit user before him was a puzzle that he was attempting to piece together. "You seem rather complicated."

Fey shrunk into his chair at the conclusion, beginning to regret approaching them at all. Even with the table distancing them, Fey felt as if they were judging him, or trying to disarm the barrier that he'd built to keep other's from meddling in his business – that Minaho character in particular. He didn't like it. Nobody would ever understand him, especially with nothing more then a mere glance.

Ignoring the comment, Fey replied flatly, "I'm looking for a book. Anything non-fiction that involves mirrors charmed by magic. Or even just a magic mirror in general."

Minaho closed his eyes in thought, "Magical mirrors, hm? Are we talking about a specific one? The most notable I can remember is the mirror who's legend speaks of casting infinite power on those 'born under the moon.' A lot of the books are rather old, and it's safer to say that they're fiction considering their age."

"Right," Manabe added, "But since spirit's become a popular topic these days, there are a lot of theorists who believe some of the spells in these older books are maybe works of spirit magic. We took them as legends, because spirit disappeared. No one knew about it, and the spells couldn't be proven."

"It still drives me crazy, regardless," Minaho continued, a fascinated gleam in his green eyes, "Spirit or not, I've never been able to interpret what the legends meant. Children of the moon? I mean, it isn't as if there's a such thing as Werewolves, right?"

Fey's heart leaped at the mentioning. He didn't feel up to explaining himself, but a mirror that could cast infinite power on those born under the moon sounded a whole lot like it could have been Moonheart. Before the two boys could continue to talk back and fourth about it, Fey asked, his tone far more enthusiastic than only moments ago. "That mirror! That's the one I want to know more about! Do you know any specific books about it then?"

"A few," Minaho answered. It was all too obvious in his body language that he was more then curious of Fey's interest in it. "But like we mentioned, they're all older books. I've seen them around though. I doubt many people would be interested in checking them out, so you could probably find them today, even. I'm warning you though, the books are incredibly complex." The ginger haired moroi jotted book titles down on a piece of paper as he spoke, passing it to Fey afterwards. "Those are the titles that come to mind. I hope they're helpful."

Fey glanced down at the note before meeting Minaho's eyes and giving him a smile that glowed with his appreciation. It read:

Dark Rituals Vol. 3

The Lost Grimoire of Lunisolar Magic Vol. 1

Celestial Enigmas

"Feel free to join us once you've found them," Minaho offered, "Just in case you have any questions."

Fey obliged, thanking the moroi again before wandering off to find each book.

Manabe and Minaho had definitely been right about one thing: the books were definitely quite old. He carried them in his hands back towards the lounging area, surprised that their tattered pages hadn't simply crumbled to the floor – the spines falling apart.

Retaking his seat, Fey placed his laptop bag at his feet and piled the books on the table. Minaho peered over at them, appearing delighted that Fey had found all three book titles.

"I recommend starting with The Lost Grimoire of Lunisolar Magic. Dark Rituals is really vague, sticking to a complex sort of formula rather than telling the actual legend of the mirror," Minaho explained, "If you're interested, it starts at chapter nine."

The spirit user didn't need to be told twice. He flipped the book open, navigating his way to the ninth chapter and eagerly drinking up each of it's words. Like Minaho had mentioned earlier: the book stated that the mirror was enchanted with a magic (it didn't go into detail of _how _or with _what _sort of magic) that was rumoured to cast infinite power on those 'born under the moon.'

So had there been other spirit users with abilities like his in the past? Spirit users who's magic had formed a connection to the moon? And what did it mean by 'infinite power' being given to them? Based on his own abilities and their problematic drawbacks, Fey interpreted it as meaning that he would be able to use his spirit magic in even the daytime – with or without lunar empowerment – at least, with the mirror in possession.

Fey checked his other resources, finding that each of them also stated that the mirror's magic kept it from ever truly vanishing from the world.

So despite the fact that he'd shattered it, and assuming it was charmed through magic, there was a way for him to create a new one. At least, that's what he took from it.

So it merely needed to be found.

It was lost...

Lost...

Just like him.

"The Lost Mirror," Fey murmured to himself, his voice so soft that it went unheard from the other two moroi. "It must be as lost and lonely as I am."

* * *

**I'm not sure when I'll update next, because I figured I'm going to finish my short SaruFey story first before working on this again. I may as well considering it's on it's last two or three chapters, where as this story will be very long. So this story might go on a month break. Maybe? Anyhow, I hope you guys enjoyed. I'm sorry if it's a bit boring. But I promise it will pick up! The flashbacks are almost entirely over. Please review, if you can! Thank you! **


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